


starlight that's star-crossed

by anbethmarie



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Young Love, and they suddenly discover they are not kids anymore, anne is 16 here and gil has just turned 18, fake non-dating I guess?, since they're together but pretend they aren't, the story continues!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-07-25 02:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 66,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16187984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anbethmarie/pseuds/anbethmarie
Summary: Anne asks Diana to swap places at school and let her sit by the window, claiming it's because her eyes have been overstrained with studying too much geometry.This, of course, is a lie, and Gilbert Blythe (as per usual) is at the bottom of it all.





	1. there’s a spark in your centre that’s piercing me in

‘Diana, would you mind swapping places?’

Diana looked up at Anne in mild surprise. ‘Well, to be sure I wouldn’t, but. . . why? We’ve been sitting like this for the past three years, and you’ve always been okay with it.’

‘My eyesight’s been getting a little weaker lately,’ lied Anne off the top of her head. ‘And there’s way more light by the window, you know.’

‘Oh my God, Anne, really? I hope it’s nothing serious—‘

‘No!’ put in Anne quickly, already regretting that she hadn’t come up with a less dramatic excuse. ‘It’s just that I’ve been overstraining it lately, reading late into the night. I just want to go easy on it for a couple of weeks, that’s all.’

The question of whether she sat next to the window or not was genuinely indifferent to Diana, and the girls promptly swapped places.

No one took any particular notice of the fact, except for two people who only came in after the exchange had occurred.

The first was a certain dark-haired boy of eighteen, who, before taking his seat, stood transfixed for a second, a confused furrow appearing between his brows as he shot a glance to where Anne Shirley, her forehead propped on her hand, was apparently absorbed in the notes lying on the table in front of her.

The other was Miss Stacy, who, unlike Gilbert Blythe, commented on the fact out loud.

‘What is the meaning of this, girls?’ she asked good-humouredly. ‘Are you trying to trick me into not realising that when I call on Diana it’s actually Anne who replies?’

‘No!’ said Anne quickly, appalled that her beloved teacher might actually suspect her of attempts at deception. ‘Of course not, Miss Stacy. Nothing of the kind.’

‘Then why did you swap places all of a sudden? I don’t want to be the annoying schoolmarm, but do switch back, would you? I’ve gotten rather accustomed to the previous arrangement over the past two years,’ she smiled.

‘But, Miss Stacy,’ Diana, who had really taken Anne’s trumped-up excuse to heart, spoke up in a solemn voice. ‘It’s for Anne’s health.’

‘Anne’s health?’ repeated the teacher, raising her eyebrows.

‘Yes,’ ploughed on Diana. ‘It’s her eyesight. It’s been bothering her, and she needs to sit by the window to be able to read comfortably.’

‘Oh, in that case I’m really sorry, Anne.’ The genuine concern in Miss Stacy’s voice made Anne cringe internally with embarrassment. ‘I hope it’s nothing serious?’

‘No,’ replied Anne, forcing a smile. ‘It’s just too much reading done by bad candlelight.’

‘Well then, your special homework for the next week is to spare your eyes as much as possible.’

With that, the subject was dropped.

***

Diana had to rush home, and Anne was left to wander alone through the sunny September meadows and brood over the events of the day.

Or, to be precise, one event in particular: her request to Diana, made and carried out on false pretences.

Because Anne’s eyesight was just as good as ever; what was bad, and getting progressively worse, were her brain, her heart and her body, all of which were behaving treacherously in various and highly disturbing ways. They would not let her forget, not for one damn moment, about the fact that Gilbert Blythe was sitting just a few feet away from her, and that if she turned her head she was certain to catch him looking at her.

Because he was _always_ looking at her.

Back when they were younger, she didn’t mind it so much; she noticed it, of course, but rarely gave it any thought at all other than that this was probably just his way of trying to get on her nerves.

But this year, which was to be their last before they went away to Queen’s, something had changed.

Gilbert had been staying away for the entire summer in Charlottetown, helping Dr Ward around the surgery. And he had come back changed: he was taller, his voice was deeper, and he had altogether become more mature than it would seem possible in such a short space of time.

Since the day of Mary and Bash’s wedding, he and Anne had been steadily getting to be really good friends; but now, it was somehow as though they were suddenly back to square one once again.

Because the way he looked at Anne had changed too. Before, it had been friendly, teasing, impressed, disapproving, challenging – all of these.

Now, in some ineffable, unnerving way, it was demanding; it was vaguely threatening, even. Anne felt as though he was looking right into her, calling on her to respond, to come closer, to ask him what he wanted from her.

As she sat in her usual seat across the aisle from him during the first few days of school, she could feel Gilbert’s gaze burning into her skin, into the side of her head, into her hands. Sometimes it made her shift uneasily in her place; sometimes it gave her goosebumps.

All the time, it annoyed and angered her.

After a week of internal struggle and external fidgeting, Anne had struck on the only feasible way out of this excruciating situation: she would simply swap places with Diana. That way, she’d stop being in Gilbert’s immediate line of vision; and, hopefully, would also stop feeling so damn giddy and self-conscious during class.

Today, she had put her plan into execution. Had it worked?

Just as she posed this question to herself, the one voice least calculated to help her answer it in the positive called out her name.

‘Anne? Anne, wait!’

Sighing, she continued on her way, knowing that he would easily catch up with her anyway.

She was right: in a couple of seconds, Gilbert was by her side, his breath quickened with running.

‘How’s it going?’ he asked, trying to peer into her face.

‘Normal,’ Anne replied, looking straight ahead.

‘Yeah?’ Gilbert cleared his throat. ‘And what’s this about your eyes bothering you?’

‘You’ve heard what I told Miss Stacy,’ Anne said, striving to keep her voice even. Why, oh _why_ couldn’t she have come up with an excuse that wouldn’t make her feel guilty for tricking people into being concerned about her health? ‘I’ve been trying to read up on geometry during evenings, and since the days are getting shorter and the candles Marilla doles me out aren’t getting more numerous—‘ she paused, shrugging her shoulders dismissively.

‘So, you’re certain it’s nothing serious?’ The genuine worry in his voice made Anne feel furious both with herself for being a liar, and with Gilbert for being the cause why she had to resort to such contemptible guiles.

‘Yes, Gilbert, I _am_ certain,’ she said curtly.

Grabbing her by the arm, Gilbert made her stop and then span her round to face him.

They stared at each other for a moment, Anne’s lips pursed into a tight line and Gilbert’s jaw tense. Then, she blinked and looked away.

‘Anne,’ he began, his voice anxious. ‘Will you please tell me what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ she replied dully, her gaze focused on the ground.

She felt her stomach do a somersault as he took her chin in his hand and gently forced her to raise her head.

There it was, that look which had been haunting her for the past few days. That dark, inscrutable look that seemed to pull her towards him like a magnet.

‘Anne,’ he said, low and serious. ‘Please, talk to me.’

Anne wrenched her head away and pulled at the arm which was locked in his grasp. ‘You’re going to give me a bruise.’

Frowning, he let her go, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

The fact that Gilbert was no longer touching her allowed Anne to regain some poise, and she gave him an apologetic look.

‘I’m sorry, Gil. It’s just – I suppose I’m just tired,’ she said lamely.

His expression softened, but the eyes with which he scanned her face remained wary.

‘So . . . it’s not like you’re _mad_ at me about something, is it?’ he asked a bit uncertainly.

Anne sighed. ‘Of course not. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.’

‘Yeah, you kinda did, you know,’ he replied with a wry smile. ‘You’ve been avoiding me ever since I came back from Charlottetown.’

‘You’re imagining things,’ Anne said in a voice which she tried to make sound sensible. She had resumed to walk, and it was easy for her to avoid his eyes.

‘No, I’m not,’ he shot back sternly. ‘Anne, this is the first time we’re really talking since school began. And I—I won’t hide I don’t like it. I don’t want us to—‘ he gulped. ‘I don’t know, drift apart or something.’

‘Well, it’s only natural that we both have less time for lazing around now that the Queen’s entrance exams are just around the bend,’ replied Anne without really knowing what she was saying. All her thoughts were focused on not bursting into tears as she realised that they most probably _would_ drift apart in the near future. After all, there would be plenty of sophisticated, beautiful girls at Queen’s ready to take Anne’s place by the side of this mature, handsome, decisive man Gilbert was well on his way to becoming.

‘Yes, but that’s the point, Anne,’ she heard him say in a voice that was, for him, verging on angry. ‘Of course we’ll have less free time now, and less still after we go to Queen’s. But it’s only a matter of whether we’re willing to work at preserving our,’ he made an infinitesimal pause and she looked over at him. His face was very earnest. ‘. . . our friendship in spite of this kind of obstacles. I am _more_ than willing. Are you?’

Anne gave him a wan smile. ‘You think you mean it now, Gil, but you will soon forget about plain old me when we go away to Queen’s. Of course,’ she added quickly, seeing his face cloud over, ‘I shan’t blame you. Heaven knows I wish I could get away from myself often enough.’

‘I don’t wish I could get away from you, Anne!’ Gilbert said heatedly, stopping in his tracks again. Anne stopped too, preserving the distance of a couple of steps between them and folding her arms across her chest. ‘Are you even listening to what I’ve been saying?’

‘Yes, Gil, and I truly appreciate it, but—‘

Gilbert snorted dismissively. ‘I don’t want you to _appreciate_ it, Anne,’ he said incisively. ‘I want you to believe it. I want us to remain friends, whatever comes.’ He flashed her a crooked smile and came a few steps closer. ‘Deal?’

He extended his palm towards her. Anne rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

‘Deal,’ she replied, looking up at him and taking his hand. The slight pressure of his warm fingers closing around hers sent a wave of heat through her body, culminating in a deep crimson flush. She did her best to hide it by gently withdrawing her hand from his grasp and resuming to walk.

‘Listen, Anne,’ he said a little anxiously, turning to face her as they approached Green Gables. ‘Don’t go spoiling your eyes with studying geometry any more, all right? We can always meet for a study session like we used to do last year, in case you—‘ He stopped and began again. ‘In case _one_ of us needs help catching up with some subject or another.’

‘Sure, like _you_ ’re likely to ever need _my_ help with geometry,’ Anne jeered, making a wry face.

‘I need your help with writing,’ Gilbert countered, smirking. ‘Your presence magnifies my scope of imagination.’

Anne sniffed incredulously. ‘Whatever you say.’

‘I’m serious. I like studying with you. It’s easier, somehow.’

Anne merely nodded. Somehow, when he talked to her like this, in that gentle, earnest tone of voice, it only made her sadder.

Because by now she realised exactly how much the fact that Gilbert cared (as a friend, of course!) about her had come to mean to her, and how painful it was bound to be to have to watch him grow more distant and indifferent at Queen’s, as it seemed inevitable to her he would.

‘Bye, Gil,’ she said, giving him a small smile and a wave goodbye.

‘See you tomorrow, Carrots.’

***

As far as it was at all possible for Gilbert to feel any kind of negative emotion in relation to her, he was angry with Anne for refusing to just tell him what the problem was so that he could make it all right somehow.

The first time he saw her after that two-month absence of his, he was quite literally struck dumb. In the space of a single summer, unbelievable though it seemed, she had transformed from a girl into a young woman. Her figure had filled in, making it hard for him to look at her without having the kind of inappropriate thoughts that prevented him from sleeping peacefully at night. Her facial structure had become more defined, and there were quantities of new freckles peppered all over her milky skin.

She was still her quirky self, but her movements had acquired a tantalising smoothness they had not had before, so that even when she did something so mundane as cross her legs or twirl a strand of hair absent-mindedly round her finger as she sat doing sums or listening to Miss Stacy’s lectures on English literature, Gilbert’s eyes were positively riveted to her.

He realised it was very, very ungentlemanly of him to stare at her so persistently, especially considering the nature of his thoughts as he did it. But he just couldn’t help it. He felt like he could never get his fill of looking at her. His whole body seemed to itch with the desire to touch her, to feel the softness of her skin under his fingers.

It was obvious to him that Anne would be surrounded by a swarm of admirers as soon as she set foot on the precincts of Queen’s Academy. There would be worldly, sophisticated young men in plenty there, and Gilbert’s own humble small-town self was bound to show to no advantage against such a background.

The thought made him clench his fists in impotent anger. Still, what _could_ he do? They were both way too young for anything so definite as a proposal – and anyway, there was no way Anne cared about him in _such_ a way. He wasn’t even sure that she cared about him as a mere friend anymore.

Altogether, things were hardly looking up.


	2. we're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another day another (teenage) drama

Anne spent the majority of the following Saturday working in the barn with Jerry.

By three in the afternoon they were both lying on the floor of the hayloft, eating apples and talking nonsense in French (which language Anne, much to her own satisfaction, already spoke fairly well).

Suddenly, there was the sound of someone moving in the barn down below.

‘Perhaps it’s Mr Cuthbert come back from the market,’ said Jerry, getting up reluctantly and disappearing down the ladder.

Anne remained on the floor, feeling rather sore from the day’s work and also very dirty, with hay sticking out of her hair and her face and clothes covered in dust.

‘Anne!’ she heard Jerry call out in a suspiciously amused voice. ‘Someone to see you!’

Anne scrambled to her feet, rendered both annoyed and uncomfortable by the prospect of one of her friends (pray Heaven it may _not_ be Josie Pye!) seeing her in the state she was in right now. In addition to the dirt she was covered in, she was wearing an old dress, one that she had grown out of during the summer and which consequently was rather obviously too tight in the bust and hips area.

With a sigh, she began to climb down the ladder. After all, it may be only Diana come to ask her to go on a walk.

‘Your prince charming has dropped in to see you,’ said Jerry in French, and Anne almost fell down the last few rungs.

She whirled round and stood face to face with a politely smiling Gilbert Blythe, dressed in his best clothes and holding a heavy-looking cardboard box in his arms.

***

The moment Gilbert entered the Cuthberts’ barn, his attention was riveted to the sound of unintelligible, freely-flowing chatter punctuated by bursts of merry laughter.

Then he realised the words weren’t English. They were French.

Gilbert’s stomach clenched with unreasoning jealously. So _that_ ’s how Anne spent Saturday afternoons: up in the hayloft with Jerry Baynard, talking _French_ and evidently enjoying herself very much.

He was just deliberating on what would be the best way of making his presence known, when a pair of legs appeared in the opening leading up to the hayloft and the long, lean figure of Jerry slid down the ladder.

He turned to Gilbert with a wide grin on his face. ‘Oui?’

‘Is—is Anne here?’

‘Anne! Someone to see you!’

The sound of shuffling, and then, before Gilbert had time to prepare himself, Anne was climbing down the ladder with astonishing nimbleness. When she was three or four rungs away from the ground, Jerry said something in French, and his words almost made her tumble down backwards.

Then she whipped round to face them, and suddenly Gilbert felt oddly short of breath. Anne was rather a mess and seemed extremely tired, but at the same time he had never seen her look so damn _cute_ before, with her hair tumbling out of her braid and surrounding her flushed face with a coppery halo. His eyes strayed lower and he quickly looked up at her face again, the way her skimpy dress stretched over her new-born curves not being calculated to render him capable of making reasonable conversation.

‘What is it, Gil?’ she asked, an impatient frown beginning to form on her face.

Jerry said something in French again, an unmistakable note of teasing in his voice. Anne snapped out a brief reply and folded her arms across her chest.

‘Can we—‘ Gilbert looked over at the grinning Jerry.

‘Leave us alone, Jerry,’ Anne said curtly. ‘And by that I mean _alone_. Be useful for once and go heat up some water. I could use a bath.’ As soon as she’d said this, a deep blush suffused her face, and she looked like she wished she had not spoken at all.

‘Your wish is my command,’ snickered Jerry, disappearing into the courtyard.

Gilbert’s brain barely had time to recover from the fact that Jerry Baynard was allowed to prepare _baths_ for Anne – his Anne! – when her voice recalled him to the present moment.

‘Well? What is it, Gilbert?’

Blinking hard, he focused his gaze on her face again. She was still blushing, and this, combined with the sheen of sweat that covered her face, made her look--

‘I – I’ve got something for you,’ he stuttered, looking down at the cardboard box he was holding.

Anne simply stared, her wide eyes darting from the box to Gilbert’s face.

‘I was in Charlottetown today,’ he went on, clearing his throat. ‘And— well, I know that you are most probably going to disregard Miss Stacy’s orders and stay up late reading anyway, so I thought I’d get you some candles so that you wouldn’t end up—‘

‘Candles? You bought me _candles_?’

‘Yeah,’ Gilbert gave her a quick smile. It disconcerted him to see how pale she had turned. ‘You know, it would be no fun to compete with you if you turned half-blind,’ he quipped lamely, holding the box out to her.

‘Gilbert, it’s very good of you, but I can’t accept this,’ Anne said, and her voice sounded oddly strained. ‘I can’t accept such a gift from—‘ she made an infinitesimal pause. ‘From you.’

‘From _me_ specifically? So you could, for example, accept it from Jerry?’ Gilbert cursed himself for sounding so whiney, but he just couldn’t help it. _Why_ must she go creating new barriers between them all of a sudden?

‘What has Jerry got to do with anything? He could never afford it,’ replied Anne irritably. ‘And I should imagine _you_ ’ve got more important things to spend money on as well! I can’t take these candles, Gilbert, and that’s the end of it. It’s bad enough that you have already given me gifts for Christmas which I have no means of returning. You know I have no money of my own, and—‘

‘Why on earth would you say that, Anne?’ he interrupted hotly. ‘You know very well I don’t expect you to buy me anything. And I don’t see why anything should prevent you from simply taking these candles, except your own damn stubbornness!’

Anne’s eyes flashed steel-blue. ‘How _dare_ you—‘

‘I’m sorry,’ Gilbert said quickly, putting the box down and taking a step towards her. ‘Anne, I don’t want to argue. I simply want to help you. All I ask in return is that you let me.’

‘That’s not true! That’s not what you ask at all!’ said Anne passionately, pointing an accusing finger at him. ‘Do you think I don’t see—‘ she stopped, controlling herself with a visible effort. ‘Take your candles and leave, Gilbert. And, if you want to help me, never, ever buy me anything again. I get everything I need from Marilla and Matthew.’ She spoke in a dry, colourless tone.

Gilbert took another step forward, reaching out to touch her arm. ‘Anne—‘

‘Leave me alone, Gilbert!’ she cried, moving to the side to avoid his hand. ‘Don’t you understand? I want you to leave me alone!’

With that, she stormed out of the barn.

***

An hour later, scrubbed clean and exhausted, Anne was lying on her bed, crying bitter, angry tears.

That hateful, impudent, conceited boy! How _could_ he?

As though the fact that, himself looking as handsome and neat as ever, he got to see her in such a humiliating state! He had seemed downright embarrassed at how ridiculous she'd looked, even Jerry had noticed that. ‘He seems to like your dress,’ he had said, and Anne could only tell him to shut up and be thankful Gilbert didn’t speak French.

Or perhaps he did? How _could_ she know? He might as well have learnt it during his foreign travels, learnt it with the same ease with which he seemed to pick up even the most complex geometrical problems.

Why had she ever come up with that stupid ‘weak eyesight’ pretence? Now, apparently, Gilbert Blythe considered himself her personal health carer, obliged to spend money he was supposed to be saving towards college on candles she didn’t even, in all honesty, need!

Anne felt that she simply couldn’t let Gilbert buy her presents without any real occasion for it. It felt so wrong somehow. She had to make him understand that it was wrong. It was not something people their age did, even if they were friends. Diana barred, the mere idea of any other of her friends – Ruby, Jane or Moody – spending money on her was absurd.

She knew Gilbert meant it when he said he didn’t expect anything in return. Yes, but that made things even _worse._ He had no right to go and act so damn altruistic. How did he imagine it would work? That whenever she complained about not having something he’d just rush to Charlottetown and buy it?

Also, he must realise that if she began to accept random gifts from him, it would inevitably create a bond of sorts between them. And she could not allow that.

She could not allow Gilbert Blythe to become even more important to her than he already was.


	3. come on, miracle aligner // go and get ‘em, tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne during maths class is highschool me  
> (My final maths grade was a "2". If you get a "1", you fail the course. RIP.)

‘You’re terribly quiet today, Anne.’

It was lunch break on Monday, and the girls were seated in their usual corner at the rear of the classroom. Ruby and Diana were arguing over whether some new fashion pertaining to dress sleeves was pretty or not, while Tillie and Jane were looking over each other’s essays.

As for Anne, she sat motionless, staring at the floor.

‘Anne? Are you with us?’ Diana asked again, in a louder voice.

‘What?’ Anne sat up straight, frowning.

‘I said you’re terribly quiet. Is something the matter?’

‘Have you fallen unhappily in love, Anne? Because _that_ can be real hard on a girl,’ tuned in Ruby, casting a mournful glance in the direction of Gilbert’s currently empty seat.

The girls giggled, and then Jane said sensibly, ‘I think at this point you’re just imagining it, Ruby. You can’t really go on liking someone for so long without any encouragement.’

‘You can if it’s real love!’ huffed Ruby.

‘And how do _you_ know it is?’ asked Anne sharply. Honestly, what did Ruby know about anything?

‘Because – because it makes me suffer. That’s what books say real love is all about.’

‘Only the very silly kind of books,’ countered Anne impatiently. ‘Real love is about unwavering support, and equality, and facing new challenges together, and being able to argue without it affecting the strength of the relationship.’

‘Gosh, Anne,’ giggled Tillie. ‘That’s rather a lot!’

‘I don’t believe any boy could possibly think the way Anne does. All they want is a pretty girl who’ll smile and nod as they voice their stupid, ill-founded opinions,’ added Jane in a resentful tone.

‘Let’s ask a boy, then,’ propounded Diana, suddenly enthusiastic. ‘Here comes one.’

Gilbert Blythe had just come in from the schoolyard, his dark curls sticking out in all directions.

‘He’s so handsome with his hair windswept like this, isn’t he, Anne?’ said Ruby in a gushing whisper.

Anne shot her what she hoped was a sceptical glance.

‘Hey, Gilbert!’ called out Diana. ‘Come here for a second. We need a boy’s opinion.’

Smiling noncommittally, Gilbert came up to where the girls were seated. Anne propped her chin on her hand and resumed her scrutiny of the dusty floorboards.

‘What is it?’ he asked politely.

‘We are trying to establish the characteristics of true love, and we consider a boy’s opinion worth having,’ replied Diana serenely. ‘Express yours.’

‘Well,’ Gilbert said slowly, and Anne, from the corner of her eye, could see Ruby fidgeting restlessly in her seat. ‘I suppose it's like being partners is an enterprise. You must be equals, and stand by each other, and help each other out when you face new challenges, and be able to argue in a constructive way, and—and so on,’ he finished with an awkward little laugh. ‘Why are you all staring at me like this?’

‘Because Anne has just said almost exactly the same thing,’ blurted out Tillie excitedly. ‘And we were certain we’d never find a boy who’d share her opinion. Isn’t that funny, Anne?’

‘Yes, very funny,’ said Anne, raising her head. Her eyes met Gilbert’s. His face was inscrutable. She felt a wave of heat wash over her body and promptly dropped her gaze.

‘But don’t you think it’s about suffering too, Gilbert?’ asked Ruby, unable to contain herself any longer.

Anne heard Gilbert clear his throat. ‘Well, I suppose strong emotions always entail a measure of suffering,’ he replied a bit uneasily.

‘I knew you’d agree with me! Isn’t it amazing how our ideas coincide?’

***

‘Anne, have you and Gilbert quarrelled?’

Anne looked up from her slate with a frown. ‘What do you mean, Diana?’

‘I mean that the things capable of rendering you silent and morose are few, but a quarrel with Gilbert is definitely one of them.’

‘Don’t make me laugh.’

‘And he’s looking frightfully unhappy too. You two should make it up, whatever it is.’

‘Diana, I’m trying to focus.’

‘Sure, trying to fob me off more like it.’

‘Diana—‘

‘Girls, do you want to share your answers with the class?’ asked Miss Stacy. ‘Anne, you’re invited to come up here and write yours out on the board.’

Chewing on her lower lip, Anne went up to the top of the classroom. She had no idea how to solve the problem they’ve been assigned. To her, it was just a jumble of meaningless xs and ys with a sprinkling of root signs thrown in, she supposed, for good measure.

She wrote out on the blackboard all she had managed to solve, which was unimpressively little.

‘All right, class. Anyone wants to pick it up from here?’

Anne turned round. Everyone was suddenly very busy with their slates. The only person who wasn’t pretending to write was Gilbert. He sat looking straight at the board with furrowed eyebrows.

‘Gilbert?’ asked Miss Stacy encouragingly.

Gilbert rose and came up to the blackboard. Without looking at him, Anne handed him the chalk and made to return to her seat.

‘No, Anne, stay here,’ said Miss Stacy, blissfully oblivious of the storm raging on under Anne’s pale exterior. ‘This kind of equation is fairly common in Queen’s entrance exams. You really need to learn to solve it. Go on, Gilbert.’

Gilbert, with the greatest ease, proceeded to deal with the hateful xs and ys and their treacherous roots. Anne, her lips drawn into a tight white line, stood looking on.

‘Excellent, Gilbert. Do stay and talk to me after class, both of you.’

Anne wanted to scream with temper.

***

‘So, when do you want to come over and look at those equations?’

Anne stared up at him dumbly. Was he now going to behave as though _neither_ of them had done anything wrong? Apparently, yes.

‘Gilbert, you don’t have to do this just because Miss Stacy—‘

‘Anne.’ He smiled down at her, mockingly imitating her stern tone of voice. ‘I see your memory needs refreshing. I told you last week I’d like to resume our study sessions. That was way before Miss Stacy even thought about it.’

‘You mean, way before she realised what a talentless fool I am.’ Anne couldn’t keep a complaining note out of her voice.

‘Anne,’ Gilbert said earnestly, ‘you’ve got plenty other talents. And not being a genius at maths doesn’t make anyone a fool.’

‘It makes me ineligible for Queen’s.’

‘Does my not being able to compose A+ essays make me ineligible as well?’

‘If you’re going to twist everything I say and use it against me, I’m not going to argue with you.’

‘I must mark this day down in my calendar, then.’

‘What?’

‘The day Anne Shirley has declared she’s not going to argue with me.’

Anne stopped walking and looked up at him with narrowed eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at her. Then, simultaneously, they both burst out laughing.

‘I’m glad we’re not mad at each other anymore,’ said Anne, calming down a little. ‘It’s rather tiring.’

‘Yeah,’ Gilbert replied, his eyes sparkling. ‘It kinda is. Tiring and boring. Moody and Charlie are decent chaps, but one really can’t discuss football indefinitely.’

‘Well, you’ve heard yourself what we girls talk about,’ said Anne a little absent-mindedly, resuming to walk.

‘The characteristics of true love?’

There was something in his voice that made Anne glance over at him.

‘Yeah,’ she said softly, meeting his eyes. ‘True love.’

‘Well, well, well! If it isn’t Fido and her faithful keeper!’

Billy Andrews emerged from an adjoining path, an insulting grin plastered on his face.

‘Don’t pay any attention to him,’ said Anne quietly, quite automatically catching hold of Gilbert’s sleeve to make sure he kept walking alongside her.

‘Oooh! So now you’re taking orders from her? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Blythe? To be at the beck and call of such worthless orphan trash! Are you going to stick to her even after she goes blind and needs help using the privy?’

In a matter of seconds, having received a lightning blow on the jaw, Billy was lying on the ground and Gilbert was hovering above him, his first raised at the ready.

‘Gilbert, don’t! Let him go!’ cried Anne, eyeing with dismay the bloody smudges on Billy’s face.

‘Didn’t you hear what your dirty little girlfriend has said?’ sneered Billy.

Gilbert’s hands moved to his throat, shaking him mercilessly. ‘I’ve warned you, Billy! I’ve told you never to pick on her again!’

Billy, no longer inclined to jeer, was getting livid in the face.

‘Gilbert, let him go! Let him go this minute!’ Anne was crying now, crying with both fright and anger.

Gilbert dropped his hold on Billy’s neck, and the latter hit the ground with a whine. However, he was quite unhurt, judging by the swiftness with which he scrambled to his feet.

‘One more time, Andrews!’ hissed Gilbert as Anne caught hold of his sleeve again and tried to drag him away. ‘One more time, and you’ll _really_ regret it!’

Billy attempted a malicious laugh, but the effect was spoiled by the fact that he immediately turned on his heel and stalked in the opposite direction.

Gilbert wrenched his sleeve out of Anne’s grasp. They walked on in silence broken only by Anne’s stifled sobs.

After a few minutes, Gilbert said impatiently, ‘For God’s sake stop crying, Anne. Are you really so terribly sorry for him? Don’t worry, he’ll be all right.’

‘He is a hateful, stupid bully who knows no better,’ shot back Anne. ‘It’s _you_ who should be able to refrain from resorting to physical violence because of a few meaningless words.’

‘You are very wrong if you think I’m going to stand by and watch him insult you,’ replied Gilbert coldly.

‘And _you_ are very wrong if you think it’s going to make me feel better to have to worry about you getting hurt!’ A hysterical note she couldn’t help entered Anne’s voice. ‘Look at your knuckles! You’re bleeding! What if you had broken your wrist or your fingers, and then didn’t regain proper control of them? You could wave goodbye to your dreams of being a doctor! How do you think I would feel then?’

She looked up at him accusingly. He kept silent, his jaw tense.

‘You’re such a brat, you know!’ Anne cried, losing her last shred of patience. ‘You like to pretend you’re so damn adult, but when it comes down to it you’re just as immature as the worst of them!’

‘Yeah?’ Gilbert burst out. ‘Are you sure you’re the one to talk? It’s not like you’re a stubborn, stuck-up little girl who doesn’t know her own mind!’

‘I don’t know my own mind? I’ve known it since day one when it comes to _you_ , at least! I was right to want to have nothing to do with you! You know what, Gilbert Blythe?’ She came up close and, grabbing his jacket in her fists, looked up into his face. ‘I wish—‘

As her blazing eyes locked with his, she seemed suddenly to lose the thread of what she was going to say. She had never seen his eyes from quite this close. They were chocolate brown dappled with specks of gold. They were really very nice eyes.

As Anne’s gaze lost some of its fierceness, Gilbert’s expression became softer as well.

‘I’m sorry, Anne,’ he said quietly, his eyes scanning her face. ‘I never wanted to make you cry.’

Anne let go of his lapels. ‘You have to promise you won’t ever fight Billy or anyone else again,’ she said, looking away. ‘Imagine what hell would be raised if you had actually hurt him. His mother would have had your head. And she would have been right, too.’

‘I suppose she would,’ admitted Gilbert with a sigh. ‘I mean, I know she would. But he’s such a jerk, all the same.’

‘And if you fight him you’re just lowering yourself to his level,’ said Anne coolly.

‘Really, Anne,’ Gilbert chuckled teasingly. ‘You could appreciate it a bit when I stand up for you.’

Anne gave him an incredulous look. ‘Have you been listening to me at all?’

He sighed again. ‘Yes. And I’m sorry. Truly.’

‘Don’t apologise to me. Just don’t ever do it again.’

‘All right, Miss Shirley,’ he grinned. ‘You’ve really got this schoolmarm manner mastered, don’t you?’

‘Oh, go away,’ she snapped. ‘I mean, not yet. When do you want me to come over? For the – the study session?’

‘Anytime,’ he said promptly. ‘Right now, if you want to.’

‘I’ve got some work left to do around the barn,’ she replied reluctantly, and then, remembering the events of Saturday, blushed.

‘Will Jerry be helping you again?’ asked Gilbert in a would-be indifferent voice.

‘I will be helping him,’ Anne laughed. Then she went on more seriously, ‘I do admire him, you know. He’s working so hard to support his family, and he’s a bright, quick learner, too. I kind of tutor him whenever he’s got a little spare time, and he’s been making steady, genuine progress.’

The voice in which she spoke was both affectionate and appreciative. Gilbert would gladly cut off both his hands to hear Anne speak about _him_ in such a manner.

‘I’m glad,’ was all he managed to say. His jealously must have shown in his tone, for Anne shot him a confused, frowning look.

‘So, perhaps tomorrow?’ he asked quickly.

‘Tomorrow it is.’


	4. this is when the feeling sinks in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sooo not much really happens in this chapter except that Anne and Gil have a really wierd conversation  
> I really have no idea where all this is heading lol

‘Anne, I was thinking we could go to the woods today and try to come up with some ideas together for the essay Miss Stacy assigned us for the end of this month.’

‘Oh, yes, please let’s go, Anne,’ pleaded Ruby, sitting up on her heels. ‘I have absolutely no idea what to write about. Protecting the environment is _not_ my type of subject.’

‘That’s because all _you_ can write are progressively more ridiculous “Bert” stories,’ observed Diana sneeringly.

‘Shhh!’ Ruby looked over her shoulder to where Gilbert was seated some distance away huddled over a handbook.

Diana rolled her eyes and turned once again towards Anne. ‘Well, what do you say, Anne?’

‘I’d love to, but I’ve already asked Gilbert to help me with those infernal equations after school today,’ replied Anne, telling herself there was absolutely no need for her to blush. ‘Miss Stacy made him promise he’d help me.’

‘Miss Stacy made him promise, riiight,’ drawled Diana, smirking.

‘Oh, Anne, I do envy you _so_ much!’ cried Ruby in an enraptured half-whisper.

‘Envy me what? Being too stupid to manage on my own?’

‘Going on a date with Gilbert!’ squeaked Ruby, giggling.

‘Ruby, it’s not a date!’ scoffed Anne a bit louder than she’d intended to. Lowering her voice, she went on, ‘You know we’d been studying together a lot last year as well.’

‘Yes, but you’re sixteen now, Anne,’ countered Ruby. ‘That’s old enough for boys to get _really_ interested in you. Prissy Andrews got engaged to be married when she was sixteen.’

‘Yeah, and look how _that_ ended,’ interposed Diana ironically.

‘I wish I was sixteen,’ persisted Ruby. ‘I feel like such a child compared to you two. Of course Diana has always looked very ladylike, but you, Anne, have really matured quite a bit this last summer.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense, Ruby.’

‘But it’s perfectly true.’

‘What is?’ asked Jane, who had just come in accompanied by Tillie.

‘That Anne looks way more mature than she did before the summer holidays.’

‘Yeah, it is,’ giggled Tillie. ‘I’ve even heard Charlie Sloane say that she is one of the prettiest girls at school right now.’

‘This is ridiculous!’ Anne got to her feet. ‘I will thank you all very much not to make this kind of fun of me any longer!’

She stamped indignantly off to her seat by the window, and, propping her chin on her hand, sat staring at the grammar handbook opened in front of her.

Gilbert, who had obviously overheard most of the preceding conversation, looked at her from the corner of his eye. The fact that Charlie Sloane thought he had the right to study and then comment on Anne’s appearance made him downright angry. Anne was off limits for him and other Avonlea boys anyway, so they might as well keep away from her and keep their mouths shut.

Very well, but didn’t that mean Anne was off limits for him as well? Was he honestly any better than the rest? After all, he could hardly keep his eyes off her before she made staring at her impossible by swapping places with Diana.

Running his hands over his face, he let out an exasperated sigh.

***

‘I’m _so_ tired,’ whined Anne, throwing herself down onto the nearest chair in Gilbert’s kitchen as he put on water for tea and began to prepare sandwiches. ‘We almost killed ourselves yesterday in the barn, trying to get through with all the work before it got dark. I’m sore all over.’

‘Miss Cuthbert shouldn’t let you work so hard,’ Gilbert said, giving her a frowning look over his shoulder.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Anne scoffed. ‘Marilla and Matthew aren’t getting either younger or richer. They can’t afford extra help other than Jerry, and they aren’t strong enough to cope with all the chores as efficiently as before. And I got out of practice. I used to be able to work much harder when I was a kid. It’s my own fault, really. I let them spoil me during those first two years of my stay here, and now I can’t seem to be able to help them as much as I should.’

‘Are you kidding, Anne?’ Gilbert sat down opposite, placing before her a steaming mug of tea and a plateful of sandwiches. ‘Any other Avonlea girl would sooner die than work as hard as you do. I don’t believe some of them even know how to wash the dishes.’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘That’s different, Gil.'

‘No, it isn’t,’ he said stubbornly. ‘They are teenage girls, and so are you. Besides, they don’t spend half the time you do studying.’

‘Yes, but they’re—how should I put it—‘ Anne wrapped her fingers round the mug and bit her lip, looking for the right word. ‘They’re _real_ people.’

Gilbert let out an incredulous half-laugh. ‘And what are you, Anne? You’re more real than anyone else I’ve ever met.’

‘Not in the sense I mean,’ she replied promptly. ‘What I mean is that they will someday have families of their own. Husbands, children and so on.’ She dropped her gaze, suddenly feeling rather hot.

‘So will you,’ Gilbert shot back decisively.

Anne looked back up at him with a wry smile. ‘I will have my own living to make, Gil. I will have to earn enough not to be a burden on Marilla and Matthew.’

‘You’re _not_ a burden, Anne.’ Impulsively, Gilbert reached out to take one of her hands. His eyes scanned her face anxiously. ‘You know The Cuthberts love you with all their hearts. They think of you as their own daughter. They are genuinely proud of how amazing you are.’

‘I know,’ Anne replied quietly, looking at his hand as it lay on top of hers, warm and calloused. ‘But they won’t live forever, Gil. I can practically see them getting weaker by the day. And when they’re gone,’ she swallowed, and his fingers closed tighter around hers, ‘I will have only myself to fall back on. Again.’

Freeing herself from his grasp, she put her hands to her cheeks to brush away the silent tears that fell in spite of her attempts at holding them back.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said apologetically. ‘I don’t know why I’m saying such things all of a sudden. I realise it must be terribly awkward for you to have me here like this, wallowing in self-pity.’

‘It’s okay,’ came Gilbert’s quiet reply. He came over to her chair and, crouching by its side, took her hands in his again. ‘Anne, even if one day Mr and Miss Cuthbert are both gone, you know you’ll never be alone again the way it had been before you came to live here,’ he said earnestly, looking up into her flushed face. ‘You have plenty of friends now. I – we – would never abandon you.’

She didn’t reply, only smiled a small, dismissive smile.

‘I mean it, Anne. I promise you you’ll never be alone again.’

Anne held his gaze silently for a few moments, her heart beating totally out of time.

‘Okay,’ she said eventually, looking away and freeing her hands from his grasp.

Gilbert stood up, clearing his throat. ‘So, let’s get down to business, huh?’

Nodding, Anne reached out for her satchel. ‘Where’s Bash and Mary, anyway?’

‘Gone away to Charlottetown to fetch Mary’s baby cousin,’ replied Gilbert, sitting down beside her. ‘Her parents have asked Mary to take care of her for a few days, I forget why.’

‘Oh.’ Anne raised her eyebrows. ‘I guess it’ll be quite a new experience for you, having a baby in the house.’

‘Yeah, it sure will. All my siblings were much older than me, you know.’

‘Just think, Gil, how lovely it must be to grow up surrounded by brothers and sisters until you’re all adults’ she said impulsively. ‘I always thought that if I ever were to get married, I’d like to have three boys and three girls. I love babies. I even loved the ones of whom I had to take care back in – in those days. They were such innocent, helpless creatures, and their parents fairly hated them. I kept wishing I was very rich, so that I could take them all away and make sure they had a real childhood.’

‘You will make a wonderful mother someday, Anne,’ put in Gilbert suddenly, giving her such an odd look that her heart got all out of gear once again.

‘I would, perhaps, in some other universe,’ she laughed uncertainly, looking away. ‘But not in this one. Girls like me don’t get to become mothers, and perhaps that’s just as well. Knowing my bad luck, I would probably die giving birth.’

‘I would never let that happen, Anne.’

They stared at each other, wide-eyed, Gilbert’s words hanging between them like something palpable.

It was Anne who shook herself up first. ‘I’m sorry, Gil. I really don’t know what’s come over me today. I keep saying the most embarrassing things. Let’s—let’s just get down to math.’

Gilbert nodded, clearing his throat nervously, and sat looking on as Anne took out the handbook Miss Stacy had allowed her to borrow. What had possessed him to blurt out something like this? Anne probably thought he must have gone clear out of his mind. It was honestly a wonder she hadn’t rushed right out of his house.

‘So, first of all—‘ she looked up at him with an impatient frown. ‘Are you listening?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he scraped his chair a little closer to her, looking over her shoulder at where she was pointing.

Anne was beginning to doubt very much that any real benefit to her knowledge of mathematics could be derived from studying with Gilbert. She could feel the warmth emanating off his body as he leant in close to her; she could smell the scent of his skin and his clothes that was so strangely, irresistibly attractive to her; she could practically feel his breath on her cheek. All this was decidedly very much n o t conductive to achieving the necessary state of undisturbed mental receptivity.

However, Gilbert was too good at explaining, and Anne herself was too quick a learner, for this hopeless state of thing to persist very long, and soon only a tiny portion of her brain remained conscious of Gilbert’s unwonted proximity; the rest was engaged in grappling with the much more prosaic problems presented in the handbook in front of her.

‘You see, you do know what to do,’ said Gilbert with a smile as she plodded through the last few examples. ‘It’s just that you’re too impatient sometimes, or else too distracted.’

‘Thankfully, I’m way less distracted _now_ ,’ blurted out Anne thoughtlessly, closing the handbook with a sigh of relief.

‘What do you mean, now?’ Gilbert asked confusedly.

Anne looked at him in horrified realisation, her mouth agape.

‘I—I don’t mean anything,’ she stuttered, scraping her chair away from him and putting her things back in her satchel.

Gilbert watched her with raised eyebrows. Then, he looked round the dusk-filled kitchen and said apologetically, ‘I should have lighted some candles. You ought to have reminded me to, Anne. It’s just that I never do it for myself as long as I can see anything.’

‘Don’t be stupid, neither do I,’ said Anne, for whom the day of final judgement had evidently come. ‘I mean, I do _now_ ,’ she amended quickly, seeing him frown.

‘Do you?’ he got up and stood looking at her suspiciously with his arms folded. ‘Anne, we’re friends, right?’

‘Of course we are,’ she slung her satchel over her shoulder, and proceeded towards the door.

‘Then why won’t you let me help you?’

‘You _are_ helping me,’ Anne said, turning towards him as she put on and buttoned up her coat. ‘You’ve just rescued me from scoring a zero on the next algebra test.’

‘Anne, that’s not what I mean.’

The worry apparent in Gilbert’s eyes and voice made Anne’s resolve to keep to her lie at all costs fall to pieces. Without really knowing _how_ she was going to account for having deceived not only him, but Miss Stacy and Diana as well, she said impulsively,

‘Gil, I—I’ve not been quite telling you the truth about this.’

‘About what? Your eyes? Then it’s something serious after all? Anne, please tell me. I promise I’ll find a way to help you,’ he put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes scanning her face anxiously.

‘No, Gil,’ she sighed, putting her face in her hands. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. It’s nothing. There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. It was a lie. It’s all a lie.’

‘A lie?’ he repeated incredulously.

Anne looked up and took a deep breath.

The front door was flung open.

‘Anne-with-an-e! Who would’ve thought _you_ ’d be here!’ Bash chuckled by way of hello. ‘Well, it’s actually a fortunate coincidence, since you and Louise can get to know each other right away!’

‘Hello, Anne,’ Mary smiled from behind Bash’s shoulder. ‘This is my cousin, Louise Hamilton.’

A girl of extraordinary, exotic kind of beauty stepped forward. She was tall and very graceful, with wide-set, almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones.

‘Hello,’ she said in a pleasantly low, vibrant voice. ‘I’m Louise. Pleased to meet you, Anne.’

By a herculean effort of will, Anne managed to force her mouth to shape something like a smile. So _this_ was Mary’s “baby” cousin? This apparition possessed of statuesque features and easy, effortlessly charming manners? In comparison, Anne herself felt more clumsy and homely than ever.

‘And this is Gilbert, my brother and business partner,’ said Bash.

Gilbert gave the girl a somewhat vague, but nonetheless warm and visibly impressed smile. ‘Hello, Louise.’

Anne felt like there was fire simmering within her. So _this_ was what jealousy, real, bitter jealously felt like.

‘I must be going,’ she blurted out, addressing herself to Mary. ‘Good bye.’

‘Anne, wait, I’ll walk you! It’s dark outside!’ Gilbert looked round distractedly for his boots.

‘Don’t bother!’ she exclaimed over her shoulder, moving away quickly. ‘I’ll be fine! Good bye and thank you!’

***

Anne had a wretched night. As soon as she closed her eyes, her brain presented her with the picture of Gilbert enjoying Louise Hamilton’s company, which inevitably resulted in his realising how lame and worthless Anne herself really was.

The only bright aspect of the whole situation was that the sudden appearance at his doorstep of this unexpected Aphrodite might make Gilbert forget their preceding conversation. The conversation in which she had admitted that her excuse to swap places with Diana was a lie.

When Anne came down to breakfast the next morning, she looked so genuinely unwell that Marilla was moved to suggesting that perhaps she ought to give up school for the day.

This was like a godsend to Anne’s tortured soul.

‘I think I just might,’ she admitted, careful not to seem overeager to stay home. ‘I’ve caught up on so much math yesterday I feel it’ll last me a week.’

Marilla gave her a stern, warning look. ‘Today is all you get, young lady. I only let you skip school because I need you to be well rested by the afternoon. Mary Lacroix has been here just now, and she’s invited us to dinner with some cousin of hers who’s come visiting.’

‘D-dinner?’ gasped Anne, staring. ‘I won’t be able to make it, Marilla. I think what’s the matter with me is that my stomach is all out of order.’

‘Nonsense, child,’ scoffed Marilla. ‘You’ll go with me and no discussions. You know Matthew will never be induced to go, and I refuse to make untrue excuses for _both_ of you. You’re going with me, and that’s that.’

‘Yes, Marilla,’ said Anne faintly. ‘Of course.’


	5. I was always good at choosing losing battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sooo. . . it's been a while  
> hopefully, you do remember at least a bit of what happened in the previous chapter :D

The door was opened by a grinning Sebastian.

‘Miss Cuthbert, Anne-with-an-e, hello!’

‘Good afternoon, Sebastian,’ said Marilla, smiling amicably and entering the hall. Anne, chewing nervously at her lower lip, followed.

‘Come straight in here, Miss Cuthbert. I want you to meet our lovely Louise,’ urged Bash, leading them into the dining room. ‘She’s really almost as pretty as my Mary,’ he added with a wink at Anne. ‘You can’t argue with genes, can you?’

Anne followed, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. She heard Bash make the introductions, and Louise greet Marilla in her unique thrilling voice.

‘And you have already met Anne-with-an-e yesterday,’ added Bash, and Anne was forced to look up. One quick glance showed her that neither Gilbert nor Mary were in the room, and that Louise looked even prettier than she had done the day before.

‘Anne-with-an-e?’ asked Louise, quirking one perfect eyebrow.

Anne opened her mouth to speak, but Sebastian was faster.

‘I like to call her that for clarification’s sake,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘The same way I call you lovely Louise. Although Anne is lovely as well, isn’t she, Blythe?’

Gilbert had just come in, a highly ornamental soup tureen in his hands. He made no sign of having heard Bash’s remark.

‘Hello, Miss Cuthbert.’ He smiled politely at the elderly woman, placing the vessel carefully in the middle of the table.

Marilla gave him the warm, affectionate smile that she seemed to reserve specially for men named Blythe. Gilbert returned it, and made to leave, but Bash caught him by the arm.

‘I said, don’t you agree Anne is as lovely as Louise, Blythe?’

Gilbert could not ignore so direct an appeal. He said calmly, without turning round to face them, ‘Anne always looks nice,’ and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Anne clenched her fists. Nice! Well, of course, being the sticker for truth that he was, Gilbert could not bring himself to say that her looks were on the same plane as Louise’s.

‘Come on, ladies, let’s sit down,’ said Bash, offering Marilla a chair on his right. Anne sat down on his left, and Louise slid gracefully into the seat opposite.

Mary came into the room, smiling warmly at Marilla and Anne.

‘I can tell you, Miss Cuthbert, that boy is a true gem,’ she said, sitting down opposite Marilla. ‘There isn’t a chore he’d try to shrink from, however boring or typically feminine it might be considered.’

‘Gilbert has always been a well-behaved boy,’ answered Marilla fondly.

‘He’s very handsome, too,’ put in Louise matter-of-factly. ‘I never thought I’d like a boy this young, but I do like him.’

Anne stared. _How_ did one just say a thing like that in front of adults and stay, to all appearances, so perfectly cool and collected?

At that moment, Gilbert entered the room, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt. He sat down opposite Anne, and their eyes met for the briefest moment. It was Gilbert who looked away first, clenching his jaw.

For a moment the talk was limited to who wanted how much of which dish and how delicious everything was. Anne maintained a wary silence, eating equal portions of everything out of fear that something she liked might turn out to have been prepared by Gilbert.

Presently, conversation switched back onto personal tracks. With his usual good-humoured smile, Sebastian addressed Gilbert,

‘You know, Blythe, the ladies here have all been singing your praises before you came in.’

Anne impulsively opened her mouth to contradict this patent lie, but shut it promptly back again once she realised she’d only give Bash an excuse to pick on her even more openly.

‘Well, I don’t see why we shouldn’t have,’ said Louise, drawing everyone’s attention to herself. ‘Gilbert is easily one of the best-looking boys my age I’ve ever met. It’s a pity you aren’t a little older,’ she added with a teasing smile, putting her hand on his arm. ‘ _Then_ we could try to make a match of it.’

Gilbert looked confusedly at the girl sitting next to him. Louise gave him a dazzling smile, and he returned it a bit uncertainly.

Anne, whose eyes were glued to Louise’s hand as it rested on Gilbert’s sleeve, was startled out of her bleak reverie by Bash.

‘You agree with lovely Louise, Anne-with-an-e, don’t you?’

Gilbert’s eyes snapped back to hers, his eyebrows drawn together in an irritated frown.

‘What?’ asked Anne rather rudely, transferring her gaze to Bash. She was painfully conscious that Gilbert was still watching her.

‘I asked whether you, too, think that Blythe is the best-looking boy you’ve ever met,’ enunciated Bash with ironical emphasis.

Anne had meanwhile managed to more or less get a grip on herself, and was now able to answer with some measure of self-possession, looking Bash straight in the eye,

‘I wouldn’t know. I’m not in the habit of dwelling on people’s appearance. It’s the character that matters for me.’

‘How old are you, Anne?’ asked Louise in what Anne couldn’t help feeling was a condescending manner. ‘You’re probably just too young to be interested in boys.’

Anne stared. Was she _joking_? ‘I’ll be seventeen next March,’ she replied coolly. ‘I don’t know whether you consider that young.’

‘Heavens, no!’ Louise laughed her tinkling laugh. ‘I’ve only just turned sixteen myself! Well, I suppose it’s the way you do your hair that’s misled me so. I don’t know when I’ve last seen a girl our age wearing a braid! Would you say that we’re actually the same age?’

Ostensibly, she asked the question of the company in general, but as she uttered it she looked pointedly at Gilbert.

Gilbert blinked hard, and then his eyes met Anne’s. He looked her face up and down with an odd expression, and then said,

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

Anne’s eyes widened at this barefaced impertinence. Feeling like her cheeks were on fire, she looked down at her plate, her nails digging into her palms under the table.

‘All right, kids, that’s about enough,’ said Mary, and, although her tone was light, her eyes were severe. ‘Miss Cuthbert is scandalised. You must excuse them,’ she addressed herself to Marilla. ‘Remember it’s my husband really who started all this.’

‘I truly am contrite, Miss Cuthbert,’ said Bash, flashing her a disarming smile. ‘It’s just that teasing Blythe has sort of got into my blood.’

‘Well, I suppose we were all young once,’ said Marilla stiffly. ‘But I won’t hide that I’m glad Anne chooses to put her education first, at least for now.’

‘She does indeed. She and Blythe are always disappearing somewhere studying together,’ put in Bash innocently.

‘Yes, we are,’ Gilbert sounded the least little bit annoyed. ‘And that’s because Anne is such an excellent scholar I feel motivated to work harder when I know I have to compete with her.’

Anne felt mortification seep deep into her soul. So, now she knew the picture he had of her. He thought her immature; he thought she always looked _nice_ , but not nice enough to merit the word lovely; he only insisted on keeping up their study sessions because all the rest of his friends were too lazy to pose a real challenge.

Well, and what else, little fool that she was, did she expect?

They had finished eating; Bash went out to shut up the stables and the poultry for the night, and Mary addressed Marilla on some household-related topic in which none of the three young people could be interested if it were to save their souls.

Gilbert rose up to collect the empty plates. Louise sprang up as well.

‘I’ll help you clean up. I need to stretch my legs a bit anyway.’

‘Thanks,’ said Gilbert simply, sending her a friendly smile.

Anne got to her feet gingerly. ‘Well, I certainly don’t intend to be the odd one out and sit here while you slave away in the kitchen,’ she said, busying herself around the table without looking in anyone’s direction.

A few moments later, carrying a handful of dirty tableware each, the trio marched into the kitchen. They deposited their burden on the broad deal table, and then Gilbert put on a big pot of water to heat for washing up.

‘I hope you weren’t offended by what I said earlier, Anne,’ Louise said with a charming smile, sitting down on one of the chairs.

Anne perched on the edge of the table, her eyes straying involuntarily towards Gilbert’s back, which was turned on them as he stood pottering around the counter.

‘If I come across as childlike now, you should have seen me two years ago,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light-hearted. ‘I used to be rather a spectacle of impulsiveness when I first came to live here.’

‘Really?’ Louise raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t believe it can have been as bad as all that. What do you say, Gilbert?’

‘To what?’

Louise rolled her eyes. ‘He pretends he had not been attending to our girlish chit-chat. I asked you whether Anne really was such an oddity when she first made her appearance in Avonlea.’

‘And who says she was?’ he asked, turning round to face them with a frown.

‘Anne herself.’

Gilbert’s eyes met Anne’s, and she clenched her teeth in preparation for another hurtful comment.

‘Anne has always been a unique person, both in character and appearance,’ Gilbert said in a level voice.

Anne seized her chance desperately. ‘What I meant is that I sometimes speak without thinking, and only come to regret it afterwards.’

To her disappointment, this remark was met by silence on Gilbert’s part.

‘Anyway, I think it’s quite a feat for a boy and a girl our age to be friends the way you two are,’ Louise droned on.

Gilbert, who had again turned towards the counter, remained silent, and Anne was therefore obliged to smile and ask,

‘Really? Why?’

‘Well, at least for me, it would be really difficult to be so close to each other without developing some kind of romantic feelings. After all, seventeen is the age at which many girls begin courting. And you’re a bit older, aren’t you, Gilbert?’

‘I’ll be eighteen in two months.’

‘Really? You look older. You look over twenty.’

‘Do I?’

‘I suppose it’s the strong jawline. Girls love this kind of thing. Don’t we just, Anne?’

‘Well—‘ stuttered Anne, willing her cheeks not to redden. ‘I suppose—‘

‘Why, Anne, you really are quite the innocent darling, aren’t you?’ laughed Louise blithely. ‘Well, I suppose your friendship will inevitably come to an end once you both get involved with other people. You’re really rather insanely handsome, Gilbert, and although you may not be conventionally pretty, Anne, your kind of looks is really appealing to some guys. It’s the fiery quality that does the trick. Only, if you want to be taken seriously, you’ve got to let up on the whole “education-first” stunt a bit.’

‘Why?’ For the first time, there was some emotion displayed in Gilbert’s tone. He turned around and looked at Louise with a frown. ‘I don’t see why Anne should want to give up on her ambitions for such a silly reason.’

Louise’s lips spread in a slow smile. ‘Obviously, it’s just like you to consider romance silly, Mr Swot. I can assure you girls see it in quite a different light. Right, Anne?’

‘I suppose I am rather a hopeless romantic at heart,’ laughed Anne uncertainly, just catching Gilbert’s eye before looking down at her hands.

‘See?’ inquired Louise triumphantly. ‘I bet there already are plenty of boys at your school who’d like to try their luck with you, if it weren’t for Mr Dog-in-the-Manger here scaring them all away,’ she added with a snicker in Gilbert’s direction.

‘Try their luck with her? What does that even mean?’ asked Gilbert belligerently, crossing his arms.

‘Sure, as though you need me to explain,’ teased Louise. ‘I bet you’ve tried yours often enough in all the ports you’ve been to with Bash. So don’t go and give us that unworldly act, cause we aren’t falling for it, are we, Anne?’

For what seemed like the thousandth time that evening, Anne merely stared. She felt both extremely uncomfortable and inexplicably angry.

‘I’m not particularly interested in the topic myself,’ she said eventually, slipping off the table. ‘I think I’ll leave you and Gilbert to discuss it on your own.’

She went back to the dining room and sat in grumpy silence until Bash’s re-entrance.

‘Why so dejected, Anne-with-an-e?’ he asked with a meaningful smile.

‘I’m just tired,’ she replied, casting Marilla an appealing glance.

‘Well, it’s getting late anyway—‘ said the older woman, making to get up.

‘Oh no, Miss Cuthbert, you haven’t had the chance to taste my excellent dessert!’ interposed Bash. ‘Let Anne go if she fancies herself ill, but please stay at least an hour more!’

‘Well, but Anne can’t go alone, it’s gotten quite dark—‘

‘Nobody would dream of sending her alone!’ exclaimed Bash with a self-satisfied note in his voice. ‘Blythe’ll walk her, of course. Blythe!’

‘No, I can manage on my own, it’s no distance at all—‘ protested Anne weakly, but Gilbert was already at the door.

‘Yeah?’ he asked, wiping his hands on the dishrag he was holding.

‘There’s a distressed damsel in need of your assistance here—‘ He shot Anne an amused smile, which her outraged stare did little to diminish. ‘What I mean is that Anne-with-an-e has had enough of our company, and Miss Cuthbert is reluctant to let her go home alone.’

‘All this fuss is absolutely unnecessary,’ said Anne firmly, getting up. ‘Besides, Gilbert can’t leave Louise to clean up the kitchen all by herself—‘

‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ came Louise’s clear voice. ‘We’re almost done.’

Everyone was now looking at her, and Anne judged it wiser to just go along with Bash’s plan than attract further comment by resisting it.

She said her goodbyes and, without looking at Gilbert, put on her outer clothing. She darted out the door without waiting for him to finish lacing his boots, but it was only a matter of little more than a minute before he caught up with her.

For a moment they walked on in rather oppressive silence, and then Gilbert said in a would-be light-hearted tone,

‘I wonder how Louise would get along with Mrs Lynde. Imagine if she started talking the way she does at _her_ dinner table.’

‘I can tell you exactly how,’ Anne shot back thoughtlessly. ‘She’d get called impertinent and uncivilised, and ugly, and gaunt, and worthless, and—‘ she stopped, realising Gilbert was staring at her with a confused frown. ‘Oh, never mind.’

Gilbert, naturally, chose to ignore this injunction. ‘Did you get called all that?’

The solicitude in his voice had the usual effect of riling Anne up.

‘Are you honestly surprised?’ she asked in a mordant voice. ‘You’ve said much the same yourself today.’

‘What?’ he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. ‘What on Earth are you talking about?’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘Never mind. Let’s just go. I want to be home already.’

‘Anne—‘ he pleaded, tightening his hold on her wrist.

‘Gilbert, do we really need to do this?’ she asked irritably.

‘Yes, because there’s some kind of terrible misunderstanding going on between us since I came back from my uncle’s! And every time I try to get you to tell me what’s wrong, somehow I only keep making everything even worse!’ By now, he sounded as angry as Anne herself felt, even though he made a visible effort to control himself.

‘It’s not you who keeps making it worse Gil, it’s me,’ she replied, the hurt in his eyes making her realise just how much out of hand this whole situation was getting. ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps—‘ she swallowed thickly, ‘perhaps we should just give ourselves a break. Perhaps we weren’t meant to be friends after all.’

Gilbert let out an exasperated laugh, looking away for a moment. Then his eyes flickered back to Anne’s face, and his fingers slid down until they were intertwined with hers. He tugged at her hand lightly, making her take a step closer.

‘Do you really believe that, Anne?’ he asked quietly, and their faces were so close she could feel his breath against her lips. ‘Do you think it would be possible for us to just stop being—whatever it is that we are?’

There was a slight tremor in his voice as he uttered these last six words, as though he was conscious that saying them out loud was a step in an unknown, possibly dangerous direction.

‘I don’t know, Gil,’ Anne replied, her lips trembling in spite of her efforts at self-control. ‘I don’t know. I feel like I’m not worthy of being your—‘ she hesitated, ‘friend. You should try to find someone charming and funny, like – like Louise. Gilbert,’ her voice became almost pleading, and she unwittingly tightened her hold on his hand, ‘by comparison, you must realise how awkward and unpolished and. . . hopeless I am. You deserve better, you really do.’

‘Better?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘Anne, do you really think I’ve ever compared you to other people – other girls – like this?’

‘I – I don’t know, Gil,’ she stuttered helplessly, looking away from his eyes, which were strangely magnetic in the half-darkness that surrounded them. ‘Perhaps you should have.’

‘Do _you_ compare _me_ to other people, then?’ he persisted, trying to peer into her half-averted face.

‘I—‘ she met his gaze, blushing furiously. Something in the intensity of his gaze made her want to tell him the truth, just this once, whatever the consequences. ‘Gil, no one could compare to you. But—‘ she added hastily, frightened by expression her words caused to appear on his face. ‘but this obviously doesn’t work the other way. I mean, it doesn’t apply to me—‘

‘Doesn’t it?’

Gilbert’s voice was barely above a whisper, but he was so close now Anne heard him perfectly clear. Before she could force her dazed brain to form an answer, he pressed his lips to hers.

It was the softest, lightest touch, tentative and sweet and innocent. They stayed like this for a second, both rather shocked by the unfamiliarity of the situation. Then, his other hand came up to touch her cheek, and he kissed her again, with just a dash more confidence.

It was only when she pressed her palm against his chest that the frantic beating of Gilbert’s heart made Anne realise it was really happening. Her best friend was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and it felt so good and exciting and like everything she’d ever imagined her first kiss ought to be – and it was a terrible, irreparable mistake!

She pulled away abruptly, panic rising in her throat and threatening to choke her. Gilbert’s eyes were so dark and full of unspecified emotion that she was momentarily speechless.

‘Anne—‘

She wrenched herself out of his grasp and took a step back, shaking her head.

‘Anne, wait, let me just—‘

‘No!’ she interrupted, taking another step back. ‘I – I have to go. No, don’t,’ she added frantically, seeing him take a step towards her. ‘You don’t need to come with me any farther. We’re almost at the gate.’

With that, she turned on her heel and ran towards the looming mass of Green Gables.

 

***

 

Anne lay in her bed, biting her nails furiously in an effort not to burst out crying.

The more she thought about it, the more certain she was of one thing: she had officially become just another notch in Gilbert Blythe’s belt. Louise’s remark about the opportunities his travels with Bash had given him made her realise how much more experienced in the whole boy-and-girl kind of thing he must be, and what a fool she had been not to have thought about it that way before.

After all, she had seen the way practically every girl at school, perhaps with the exception of Diana, was ready to throw herself at his feet if he would only show the slightest sign of being interested. And out there, in foreign places, there would have been no fear of the neighbours’ talk to keep him from using his good looks and charming manners to the best advantage.

Anne had always prided herself, in the privacy of her own mind, on being able to keep her relationship with Gilbert on a predominantly intellectual level. And now he would know that she was just like all the other girls, thrilled to be noticed by the best catch around the place.

She despised herself. What an utter, abject fool she had made of herself!

She would never be able to look Gilbert Blythe in the eyes again.

Never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm snowed under with college work & my MA thesis supervisor is a j*rk, so I don't have quite as much time to work on my stories as I'd like.  
> However, I'm not giving up on any of them, & I hope you'll stay tuned whenever an update is ready, whether it's in a week's or a month's time :D  
> lots of love!


	6. it's clear that you feel nothing // so jump into the fog with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne wades deeper into lies & denial while Gilbert plays the good doctor  
> misunderstandings accumulate  
> is it ever going to start looking up for these kids? who knows

Next morning, Anne purposefully upset her glass of milk at breakfast, spilling it all over the table as well as her clothes so that before she had cleaned up the mess and changed she was already almost an hour late. The scolding she received from Marilla was, she felt, a light price to pay for making more or less sure that she would _not_ bump into Gilbert Blythe either on the way to school or in front of the building.

She entered the classroom with her eyes trained on the floor, replied to Miss Stacy’s greetings with a polite smile, and slid into her seat next to Diana with a sigh of relief.

‘What’s been happening to you, Anne?’ her friend inquired as soon as Miss Stacy assigned them some exercises to solve. ‘Have you been ill?’

‘I had indigestion,’ Anne whispered back. From the tail of her eye, she could see Gilbert’s hand as he sat writing assiduously on his slate.

‘But you’re all right now?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Girls!’ Miss Stacy’s clear voice rang out. ‘If you keep on talking, I will have to move your seats!’

Anne needed no other threat, and the rest of the forenoon classes passed without her and Diana giving the teacher occasion to reprimand them again.

During lunch break, to Anne’s dismay, Gilbert again remained in his seat. Although it was fairly usual for him to dedicate every free moment to sitting bent over some anatomy or chemistry handbook or another, Anne couldn’t help feeling that _this_ time he did it on purpose to hear whether she’d brag about yesterday’s incident to her friends.

Not over my dead body, she thought.

‘Do you know what Maisie Wright told me?’ Tillie’s excited trill broke in upon Anne’s gloomy ruminations. ‘She says that she saw Ted Sloane kiss Alice Hammond behind the big elm tree in the schoolyard yesterday!’

‘Kisses are gross,’ opined Jane with a wry face. ‘At least that’s what Prissy says.’

‘Of course Prissy’s kisses with Mr Philips must have been gross,’ put in Diana with a shudder. ‘But if it’s the right person who kisses you, it really is rather nice.’

‘Diana!’ squeaked Ruby, while Tillie and Jane gasped in excitement.

‘What?’ Diana shrugged her shoulders. ‘I just want you to acknowledge the facts. If kissing is so gross, why do you think everyone does it?’

‘It isn’t gross for boys,’ said Tillie in the tone of one imparting confidential information. ‘They enjoy weird things like that. But for a girl, it’s always bound to be a disappointment.’

‘Not if it’s the _right_ boy,’ insisted Diana. ‘Anne, what are you doing? Are you ill again?’

For Anne was sitting with her face hidden in her hands. She knew her cheeks were burning red, and she did not feel equal to coming up with a trumped-up excuse for the fact.

‘No,’ she mumbled against her palms.

‘What about you, Anne?’ chimed in Ruby. ‘Do you think a girl’s first kiss is just like they say in the books?’

‘Like what?’ asked Anne weakly, stalling for time.

‘You know, a turning point in a girl’s life. Life-changing,’ giggled Ruby.

‘I--‘ stuttered Anne, and as she took her hands away from her face her gaze fell directly on Gilbert’s back. He sat up very straight, practically immobile, as though he was holding his breath. ‘I don’t know. I suppose it might be, if - if she’s lucky enough to get kissed by someone who’s special to her.’

‘Yeah, fat chance,’ sneered Jane. ‘The truth is that boys just treat us as training ground. You know, they kiss a girl whenever opportunity offers itself, so that when they find a girl they _really_ like they may be good enough at it to make an impression. _Nobody_ is a good kisser at their first go. It’s physically impossible. When your first kiss comes around and it feels really good, it just means that he had kissed countless other girls before without feeling anything for them.’

Anne felt all the blood drain from her face.

‘That’s ridiculous, Jane,’ said Diana contemptuously. ‘At least, no decent boy would do that.’

‘No truly modern and cosmopolitan boy would do otherwise,’ persisted Jane ominously.

‘I’ve heard Charlie Sloane say to Fred Wright that he’s planning to be _your_ first kiss, Anne,’ giggled Tillie.

Anne gasped in indignation. The impudence of a Sloane really knew no bounds!

‘Well, thank heaven he’s too late then!’ she huffed unthinkingly.

The girls stared at her in awestruck silence.

‘What do you mean, too late?’ queried Ruby in high-pitched excitement.

Anne stared back, her mouth agape.

‘I-‘ she began. Her eyes strayed towards Gilbert’s back again. Somehow, she was one hundred per cent certain he was listening. ‘I once got kissed by a boy at the orphanage,’ she lied, her voice unnaturally loud in her ears. ‘Just before I came to live here.’

‘Oh my!’ exclaimed Tillie while the other three girls giggled uncontrollably. ‘Was it very terrible?’

‘It-- it--‘ Anne swallowed. ‘I don’t quite remember.’

‘You don’t remember your first kiss?’ gasped Diana. ‘Oh, Anne.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Anne said quickly, clearing her throat. ‘You know, at least whenever my next kiss happens it’s going to be the only one that’s really counted.’

‘You mean, with Charlie Sloane?’ teased Jane.

Anne forced herself to join in the universal laughter which this remark elicited.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Gilbert shut his book and leave the classroom, banging the door shut behind himself.

 

***

 

Before the lunch break was over, Diana’s mother appeared at the schoolhouse door and, among rushed explanations, carried her daughter off to Charlottetown for some apparently urgent shopping.

Anne was therefore left to concentrate on her slate with double effort, her head propped on her hand in such an ingenious manner that she had no means of knowing whether _anyone_ was looking her way.

However, as a lecture on English literature was drawing to a close, Miss Stacy uttered words which would never have fazed Anne before, but which now left her in cold sweat.

‘All right, class, time for a small project in pairs of two. Is anyone without a partner?’

Anne’s heart literally stopped beating.

‘Gilbert, move to the seat next to Anne.’

Anne’s hand fell onto the table. She sat staring at Miss Stacy fixedly, but as soon as Gilbert sat down beside her the scent of his skin and clothes invaded her nostrils, and she was momentarily taken back in time to the moment when she stood wrapped in his arms, with his soft, warm lips pressed against her own.

She wanted to cry. How was she supposed to accomplish anything in such circumstances? And what was Miss Stacy saying?

‘All right, here’s what you’re going to work on: you’re going to analyse Sonnet 130 by Shakespeare, and then write an essay entitled “We like because; we love despite” with examples for or against drawn from famous literature. There’s only a little time left before the classes are over for today, so I’d like you to work on this at home and hand in your projects by the end of the week.’

Concentrating on keeping her hand from shaking, Anne opened her English handbook on the appropriate page. She read the poem through, and then, as the classroom began to fill with the buzz of exchanged comments, sat stiffly staring at the page before her.

Gilbert scraped his chair a little closer to her.

‘Have you finished reading?’ he asked quietly, leaning in towards her.

‘Yes,’ she replied, never taking her eyes off the book.

‘So, what do you think?’

With infinite effort, Anne turned her head towards him and met his eyes.

‘I think this poem is downright offensive,’ she said with cold deliberation. ‘This isn’t the way anyone truly in love would speak about the object of their affection.’

Gilbert’s eyes widened a little, and then he blinked rapidly and looked down at his own handbook.

‘Well,’ he said, frowning. ‘I can’t say I agree. I think it’s more about the fact that all those features make this girl he describes unique. Not like all the other girls whose praises are usually sung in poetry.’

Anne snorted. ‘Unique? So far as I know, that’s only a euphemism for “ugly”.’

‘Then you know very little,’ Gilbert countered, looking back up at her.

She could feel her cheeks flare red. ‘I know just enough. I’m not as simple-minded as _some_ people think. I may not be _worldly,_ but-’

‘Anne,’ he interrupted, his voice pleading. ‘I don’t know why you-‘

‘All right, class, school is dismissed for today.’

Anne sprang up, collecting her things haphazardly. She squeezed past Gilbert, snatched her coat, and practically ran out of the building.

As she reached the edge of the woods she set out at a trot, and since she was blinded by angry tears she soon stumbled over a protruding root and landed sprawled on the ground.

‘Oh my _God_!’ she whined, enraged. ‘Seriously? What is _wrong_ with me?’

She sat up, and saw that the skin of both her palms was scraped rather badly.

‘I hate you, Anne Shirley,’ she muttered, looking around for something other than her clothes on which she could wipe the dirt and the blood. ‘I hate you. You are the stupidest, clumsiest, most absurd creature I’ve ever, ever met!’

‘Here, take this.’

A clean white handkerchief appeared in front of her face.

Anne’s head snapped up, and, as expected, her eyes met those of Gilbert Blythe.

‘Why are you following me _again_?’ she asked irritably, scrambling to her feet. She stood facing him with her hands raised, without taking the proffered handkerchief.

‘I’m not,’ he replied, frowning. ‘I’m simply going home. What would you have me do when I saw you lying here and cursing? Pretend I didn’t see you?’

‘I wasn’t cursing,’ Anne interrupted, making a move to cross her arms and remembering the soiled state of her palms just in time.

One corner of Gilbert’s mouth quirked upwards in an incipient smirk, but he controlled himself and said,

‘Wipe your hands on this, Anne.’

Anne clenched her teeth and stood immobile.

‘Oh, for God’s sake--’ Rolling his eyes, Gilbert grabbed one of her wrists and, with a gentleness that quite took her aback, began to clean the dirt away from Anne’s palm.

She was conscious of a desire to snatch the handkerchief out of his hand and finish the work herself, but somehow Gilbert’s quick but delicate movements had her frozen to the spot.

Presently he had done, and, without letting go of her right wrist, stuffed the soiled handkerchief into his pocket. Then his fingers skimmed the scratched surface of her upturned palm.

An exciting thrill went all through Anne’s body, and she looked up, meeting Gilbert’s intense, dark gaze.

‘You need to wash this thoroughly when you get home,’ he said quietly, the tone of his voice contrasting oddly with his matter-of-fact words.

‘All right,’ Anne replied abstractedly, staring unblinkingly into his eyes. ‘I will.’

Gilbert took a step closer, making her breath hitch.

‘Anne,’ he began earnestly, his eyes scanning her face. ‘Please, let’s just talk. I need you to know that I’m sorry that I-‘

Anne’s eyes widened, and she snatched her hand out of his grasp.

‘Don’t say it, Gil,’ she said feverishly, bending down to collect her satchel. ‘I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just put it behind us.’

Gilbert frowned. ‘Is - is that what you want?’

‘Yes, it is,’ replied Anne, fairly stumbling over the words. ‘It is. I don’t want any explanations. I realise that it wasn’t - it wasn’t-‘ she swallowed, looking away. ‘I may be naive, but I’m not _that_ naive, Gil. We both got caught up in the moment. That happens. You don’t need to feel remorseful on my account. It’s not like a kiss is such a big deal.’

Throughout this speech, Gilbert’s frown deepened gradually until he was fairly glaring at her.

‘You don’t really believe that,’ he said with forced calmness as soon as she’d finished.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘You want me to believe that kiss didn’t mean anything to you?’ he repeated in a strained, incredulous voice.

‘Did it mean anything to _you_?’ Anne shot back hotly. ‘Anything beside gaining the knowledge that no girl is able to withstand your widely renowned charms? It’s all right, you’ve proved your point, let’s just forget about it and move on!’

Gilbert stared. ‘Anne, what on earth--‘ he gulped, taking another step towards her. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, Anne,’ he said in a softer tone. ‘You’ve been listening to-‘

‘The only thing I’ve been listening to is my own common sense!’ she snapped. ‘I advise you to do the same. I’ll see you tomorrow. And please, don’t ever revert to this subject again.’

With that, she turned her back on him and ran down the path.


	7. it's the side effects that save us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with how this chapter has turned out, but I don't have the energy or time to rewrite it, sooo. . . enjoy this pile of nonsense I guess :D  
> also, I think it's the penultimate one, which means this tale of woe is coming to an end soon :D

‘Anne, can I talk to you for a moment?’

The eyes of the four other girls fairly bulged out of their heads as they stared between their friend, whose pale face became instantaneously suffused with scarlet, and the tall upright figure standing right behind her.

‘I’m listening,’ Anne said without turning round.

Ruby let out a shocked gasp.

Shifting uncomfortably, Gilbert cleared his throat. ‘It’s about the assignment Miss Stacy gave us.’

Diana took one look at his face, and promptly addressed Anne in a peremptory voice:

‘Anne, it’s not like _we_ are all that interested in hearing the details of _your_ essay. Just go and talk it over face to face, okay?’

Sending her friend a chilling glance, Anne scrambled to her feet and brushed past Gilbert without sparing him a look. She stopped by a desk a few meters away, leaning against it with belligerently crossed arms.

‘Anne, I’ll give you a tip. If you don’t want your friends asking what happened between us, try to hate me a little less obviously,’ he said as he came to a stand in front of her, an annoyed frown on his face.

‘I don’t - I don’t hate you,’ stammered Anne, somewhat taken aback by the anger underlining Gilbert’s quiet voice.

He let out an incredulous snort, looking away and clenching his jaw. Then his eyes came back to hers, cold and impersonal.

‘So, about this assignment. I suppose we might try to get out of doing it together, but--‘

‘What? No, why?’ Anne interrupted impulsively. Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up. She reddened to the tips of her ears, and stammered out, ‘Well, if you want to then of course--‘

‘Do _you_ want to?’ he cut in harshly.

‘Me?’ This cold, angry Gilbert wasn’t a person she knew how to talk to. She felt like she was losing hold on something that had always seemed as certain and solid as the earth under her feet.

‘Yes, Anne, you,’ he replied with impatient deliberation. ‘It’s with a view to making things less unpleasant for _you_ that I am asking this question.’

‘Unpleasant? Why on earth would I consider working with you unpleasant?’ asked Anne with a small, nervous laugh.

Gilbert gave her a smile that was more like a grimace. ‘It’s just that I don’t want you to be obliged to spend time with a person whose presence is obnoxious to you.’

Anne felt close to tears. ‘Gil, please don’t talk like this. It’s not-- it’s not true, you know it isn’t.’

‘Really?’ he sneered, and then, catching sight of the watery quality of her eyes, added in a more neutral tone, ‘So, since you say you don’t object to working with me, when can we meet? I’d like to have it over and done with.’

‘Let it be today, then,’ answered Anne quietly, looking away from him. ‘If that’s okay with you.’

‘It is.’

She gulped and raised her gaze, just locking eyes with Gilbert before he looked away towards the window.

‘Then-- wait for me after school, okay?’

‘Okay.’

With that, he went back to his seat.

Feeling rather as though she was stuck in some grotesque nightmare, Anne turned towards her friends. All the girls were staring at her with eyes as wide as saucers.

‘What on earth has just happened between the two of you?’ asked Jane in an excited whisper as Anne took her place on the floor. ‘It looked. . . weird.’

‘As though there were actual sparks of electricity jumping between your bodies!’ put in Tillie with a squeaky giggle.

‘What? That’s just ridiculous,’ said Anne curtly. ‘It’s simply that we-- we can’t quite agree what books to include in our essay.’

‘Perhaps _Pride and Prejudice_ would be appropriate,’ suggested Diana with a knowing smirk. ‘It’s full of people who are unwilling to face their real feelings, but end up together nonetheless. The moral is that true love will always have its way.’

 Anne chose silence as the best method of letting this ridiculous discussion drop.

 

***

 

Previously that day, Anne had woken up to violent cramps, as well as the realisation of how ridiculous her behaviour towards Gilbert had been during the past few days. She had magnified out of all proportion a situation which she would have been much better advised to simply laugh off as something completely meaningless.

However, the fact that she _could_ blame most of her excessively emotional behaviour on her period was of next to no help, since she could hardly give this as an explanation to Gilbert.

Besides, she was feeling genuinely unwell, and was able to focus on little else than just getting through the day.

That is, until that horrid conversation with Gilbert. After _that_ , all she could focus on was the coldness with which he had treated her, and which seemed to have left a gaping, hopeless hole in her chest.

 

***

 

Anne exited the schoolroom by Diana’s side, dragging her feet one after the other. Gilbert was already waiting outside, standing with his hands thrust deep in his pockets.

‘Anne, are you sure you wouldn’t rather go straight home today?’ asked Diana anxiously, her eyes scanning Anne’s pale, drawn face. ‘You know you’ll probably feel much better in a day or two.’

‘No,’ replied Anne, quickly and decisively. She felt convinced that any attempt of hers at trying to postpone completing the assignment would only result in Gilbert interpreting it in the worst way possible. ‘I’m perfectly fine. Goodbye, dearest Diana.’

The girls embraced, and then Anne turned to face Gilbert. He was staring at her with a somewhat tense, quizzical expression.

She gave him a slight nod and began to walk in the direction of his house. He fell into step beside her, and the way passed in silence which, as far as Anne was concerned, was positively nerve-wracking.

As Gilbert’s house came into view, Anne remembered a detail which had hitherto slipped her memory: Louise’s presence within it. The realisation that she would have to face that Charlottetown-bred goddess while looking and feeling the way she did today made her unwittingly let out a quiet groan.

Gilbert’s head instantaneously turned towards her. ‘Is something the matter?’ he asked, frowning.

‘No,’ replied Anne, trying to sound assured. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just-- it’s nothing.’

Gilbert’s frown deepened, and then, clearing his throat and looking away again, he said dully,

‘Go on in. I have to go round to the backyard first and check if everything’s in order. Bash and Mary are away for the day, so nobody has been around here to look after things since morning.’

He disappeared round the corner of the house without waiting for Anne’s reply.

The girl entered the house, noticing at once how empty and quiet it was. She hang up her coat, kicked off her boots, and went on into the kitchen. With a sigh of relief, she subsided into the nearest chair. She was aching all over, and her lids were so heavy she could only keep her eyes open by conscious effort.

It was a bad idea, coming here in this state. The only thing she was likely to achieve was making Gilbert even more annoyed with her by being dull and unresponsive, and altogether too tired to come up with any constructive ideas.

Feeling utterly defeated, Anne put her arms on the table, and then rested her aching head on top of them.

And then she slipped into the blissful oblivion of slumber.

 

***

 

All of the resentment which Gilbert had been so carefully nurturing throughout the day evaporated the moment he entered the kitchen and saw Anne’s small figure slouched against the table, evidently enjoying a much-needed, restful sleep in spite of the uncomfortable position she was in.

The thought that she'd got herself into a state of being so run-down as to fall asleep on people’s tables made him want to give her a good talking to in order to force her to understand that she _had_ to take better care of herself.

Damn it all, he wanted to be able to take care of her _himself_.

He approached her on tiptoe and, with infinite caution, picked her up. He was acutely aware of the fact that if she was to awaken now and find herself in his arms like this, she’d probably scream and slap him.

Holding his breath, Gilbert laid Anne down on the drawing room couch. She stirred, but it was only to curl herself kitten-like into a ball.

Very gently, Gilbert placed a blanket over her, and then slipped quietly back into the kitchen.

 

***

 

When Anne awoke close on two hours later, it was to a sense of utter confusion. She recalled dimly that her last conscious thought had been that Gilbert was taking forever doing whatever he was doing out there in the backyard.

And now she was lying under a blanket, feeling warm and fuzzy and even a little bit less sore than when she was last awake.

A flickering candle, standing on the table a little distance away, was throwing fitful light on the face of the person seated there writing, a stack of books at his elbow.

Gilbert. She was still at Gilbert’s house, asleep on his couch.

Anne moved to raise herself to a sitting position, and his head immediately snapped up.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked. His voice, to Anne’s immense relief, no longer held that awful chilling note.

‘I wasn’t--‘ began Anne, her voice rusty. She cleared her throat uneasily and tried again. ‘I’m sorry for falling asleep. I don’t know how it happened.’

‘I do,’ replied Gilbert, shrugging his shoulders. ‘You haven’t been getting a proper amount of sleep, and so your body finally decided to take what it wanted by main force.’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘Thank you for the diagnosis, Dr Blythe.’

‘Anytime,’ he said with an incipient smirk, turning back to his writing.

It was only then that Anne remembered the reason why she had found herself in this situation in the first place.

‘The assignment!’ she exclaimed, putting a hand up to her forehead in a gesture of despair. ‘We were supposed to work! You should have woken me up, Gil! Now we’re going to have to sit at it until midnight, and--‘

‘No, we’re not,’ he interrupted, putting down his pen. ‘I’ve just finished it.’

‘You did what?’ gasped Anne, springing up and reaching him in two agitated strides. Her gaze fell on the sheets of paper strewn over the table, all of them covered in his neat handwriting.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve left you your share of work,’ Gilbert continued matter-of-factly, gathering the loose pages into a pile. ‘You’ll have to go through it and correct all the most glaring absurdities. You know, it’s not exactly what I’m best at, theorising about love,’ he added with a trace of embarrassment, getting up and holding the papers out to her.

Anne stared at his outstretched hand, wide-eyed.

‘Gilbert, this is very good of you,’ she said hesitatingly. ‘But I’m not sure I ought to agree to take credit for any of this. This clearly isn’t a fair division of work.’

‘Of course it is.’ He stuffed the sheets into her hands and crossed his arms. ‘Trust me, getting through all this nonsense won’t exactly be a piece of cake. I’ve put down all the most ridiculous, threadbare clichés that came into my head.’

‘Such as?’ Anne squinted down at the topmost sheet, trying to make out the words.

‘You know, that opposites attract. Or that when you fight over the merest trifles all the time it’s because you’re really in love with each other. Or that even if sometimes the person you like acts as though she’s lost her mind, it’s still better than having to spend your time with someone so complaisant they might as well be your own shadow.’

Anne slowly raised her eyes to Gilbert’s. His face was all dancing shadows in the erratic light of the lone candle.a

‘I’m not sure--,’ she began quietly.

‘Well, I _am_ ,’ he interrupted, his voice low and earnest.

‘At least, you can’t quarrel with a shadow,’ said Anne, trying her best to sound as though she was still talking about Miss Stacy’s assignment.

‘Occasional quarrels aren’t all that bad, provided both parties are willing to make up reasonably quick.’ Gilbert extracted the papers from Anne’s grasp, tossed them back onto the table, and took her hands gently in his own. ‘Do you think _we_ could make up, Anne?’

Anne kept her gaze fixed on their interlocked palms, afraid that if she looked into his eyes she might do something rash and ridiculous.

‘I’m sorry for the way I treated you yesterday, Gil,’ she said quietly. ‘I know it was unfair. I have no right to assume things about you.’

‘That’s not the point, Anne,’ he replied, his hold on her fingers tightening a little. ‘What makes me angry is that you’d rather believe what people who know nothing about me tell you than listen to what I’ve got to say.’

‘But, Gil, you don’t have to say it,’ Anne put in quickly, lifting her eyes to his. ‘I understand, I really do. It’s obviously different for you, since you’re a boy, and older, and have been to so many different places--‘

‘There you go again!’ he interrupted hotly, looking like he could barely keep himself from grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. ‘Anne, you understand _nothing_. I would never even _consider_ kissing--‘

‘Hullo! Are you in, Blythe?’

Anne wrenched her hands out of Gilbert’s grasp and sprang away from him as though his touch burnt her. The fraction of a second later, Bash and Mary entered the room.

‘Why, I thought Anne was _not_ supposed to strain her eyes by studying in such pitch darkness?’ said Mary by way of hello. ‘Really, Gilbert, I would have given you credit for more common sense than this.’

Anne could barely keep herself from letting out a groan of dismay. Apparently, all of Avonlea knew by now about her stupid lie, and she was never going to be able to live it down.

She hastily stuffed the sheets into one of her handbooks and slung her satchel over her shoulder.

‘Don’t worry about me, Mrs Lacroix,’ she said, moving quickly towards the hall. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run home before it gets completely dark.’

She put on her boots and coat on anyhow, just catching a glimpse of Gilbert’s anxious face as she pulled the front door open.

‘I’ll try to get this done by tomorrow’s afternoon,’ she said cheerily, stepping out into the gathering dusk. ‘Goodbye, Gil!’

And then she slammed the door shut, her heart beating out of her chest.

She hardly knew whether she was disappointed or relieved that Gilbert never got the chance to finish whatever it was he had wanted to say.

All she knew was that rather than make up their previous quarrels, they had somehow managed to wade even deeper into the quicksand of misunderstanding which lately seemed to have become their natural habitat.


	8. I was a billion little pieces till you pulled me into focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so it all comes to an absurdly happy end!  
> (my head aches rather badly, so please excuse all & any mistakes)
> 
> (also, happy 100th anniversary of Regaining Independence to my lovely home country, Poland!!!)

Before the following night was over, Anne had resolved on pursuing a following course of action: she would simply pretend, as she was certain Gilbert himself _would_ have her do, that the conversation of the day before had never strayed into the dangerous regions of who kissed whom and why.

That was it: they would go back to being chums in the old easy way. She would stop being such a silly little goose and making things awkward for them both all the time.

The next day dawned so clear and warm that Anne’s spirits rose even higher.

She was certain her recent troubles with Gilbert were but a matter of her own reckless impulsiveness.

She _had_ been jealous of Louise, yes, but that had been because the latter was the embodiment of all the charms Anne herself desired and was doomed never to possess - _not_ because she felt anything but the most purely platonic of friendships for Gilbert.

All the while, the little voice at the back of Anne’s mind kept pointing out that she was deliberately leaving out of her calculation such irreducible factors as the fact that it _had_ been Gilbert who had kissed her first, and that she still had not explained to him why she had wanted to change seats with Diana so much that she had gone to the length of telling an outright lie to Miss Stacy.

When, on her way to school, she espied Gilbert’s tall figure in the middle distance she actually waited for him to join her, telling herself firmly that the quickened beating of her heart was merely the result of her energetic walk.

Indian summer was at its height, and as Gilbert approached Anne, whose hair was turned copper gold by the sun, it seemed to him that she was part of the shimmery landscape, not a girl of human flesh and blood.

‘Good morning to you, fair sylvan maid,’ he said with an amused smirk, coming up to her. ‘You aren’t going to imprison my soul in the nearest tree, are you?’

His tone was that of easy banter, and Anne felt safe enough to reply, her eyes lighting up,

‘I wish I _was_ a sprite living in the forest. Wouldn’t it be simply wonderful, especially on an exquisite day like this, to run free and feel at one with nature instead of being shut up in a dark, dingy classroom?’

‘You’re lucky Mrs Lynde isn’t around to hear you,’ he chuckled. ‘All that money spent on refurbishing the schoolhouse, and still Anne Shirley has the audacity to call it dark and dingy!’

Anne laughed too, albeit a bit regretfully. ‘Well, it’s not the fault of the schoolhouse really. It’s just that the weather has no right to be this lovely at this time of the year. It positively kills my motivation to set to any serious work. But,’ she added with a hopeful sigh, ‘perhaps at least I’ll be able to get Jerry to do my chores so that I can sneak off for a little walk during the afternoon.’

At those words, Gilbert gave her a sharp look and then quickly averted his gaze. ‘You must really like him,’ he observed in a would-be detached tone.

‘Like whom? Jerry? I simply _hate_ him!’ Anne said without much thought. ‘He’s even more annoying than you, you know. But I do love him with all my heart, all the same.’

This statement, full of unexpectedly bold and somewhat contradictory information, left Gilbert momentarily speechless.

‘So you’re. . . you _are_ in love with him, after all?’ he managed eventually.

‘I’m _what_?’ They were in sight of the schoolhouse now. Anne stopped and turned on Gilbert, an annoyed frown beginning to form on her face. ‘Are you crazy?’

‘I just thought I’d-- I’d like to know if it was true.’

In spite of all Anne’s resolutions not to let her feelings run away with her, irritation rose within her. ‘What kind of questions are these to ask a lady anyway?’ she asked tersely, putting her arms on her hips in a defiant gesture. ‘Would you like me to start catechising you as to whether or not you’re in love with Louise Hamilton?’

‘Louise? Anne, I’ve only really talked to her, like, twice,’ he replied, staring at her with patent incredulity.

‘It’s not like it would take so very much for a boy to be smitten with a girl like that!’ she shot back with venom. ‘Do you think I haven’t seen the way you kept _fawning_ on her--‘

Gilbert cut her off with a mirthless laugh. ‘You really _are_ the silliest person I’ve ever met, Anne,’ he said with dry deliberation. ‘You’re the most stubborn, foolhardy, silly girl I’ve ever--‘

‘Oh, _shut up_!’ Anne screeched, completely unnerved by his self-possessed manner. ‘It’s a pity Marilla and Mary can’t hear you _now_! Then they’d know how _perfect_ your manners really are!’

With that, she turned on her heels and ran towards the schoolhouse.

 _There_ went all her high-minded, noble resolutions!

But really, _that boy_ was simply impossible!

 

***

 

Jerry did agree to take over Anne’s duties for the day, and thus she was free to vent some of the complex, highly disturbing emotions boiling within her by going on a really far, energetic walk.

Physical fatigue, mental relaxation and peaceful solitude did her well, and she set back towards home in a mood that was more or less in accord with the sunny, mellow October afternoon around.

She stopped by one of the many clumps of wild chrysanthemums and, crouching down on her heels, began to weave herself a crown. She then put it on her windswept hair and, with a soft laugh, ran towards the nearest tree and hugged its rugged trunk, putting her cheek against it.

‘Dear old world,’ she said dreamily, stroking the bark with her palm. ‘You are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.’

‘So, you _are_ a forest nymph after all.’

Anne’s fingers curled themselves into two small, tight fists. Slowly, she leaned away from the tree and turned to face Gilbert Blythe, who stood a few meters away, looking at her with an inscrutable expression.

‘If you’ve come here to mock me again, kindly move on and out of my sight,’ she said haughtily. ‘It took me two _hours_ to get myself back into a good mood, and I’m not going to let you spoil it in two minutes.’

Slowly, Gilbert closed the distance between them, and stood looking at her with a level, dark gaze for a few moments.

Finally, Anne shifted uncomfortably and said somewhat tersely, ‘Well, aren’t you going to apologise for calling me names this morning?’

‘I’m sorry I called you names,’ he replied promptly.

Anne huffed. ‘Nothing like a spontaneous, heartfelt apology.’

Gilbert opened his mouth to rejoin, but Anne continued hastily,

‘You may think it doesn’t matter how you behave towards me, and that you need to save your charming ways for all the other girls you want to impress, but--‘

‘ _What_ other girls, Anne?’

The tone in which Gilbert spoke was sharp and peremptory, and his face went from blank to tense in the matter of seconds.

Anne, however, decided she would _not_ be intimidated so easily. ‘All the other girls you’ve flirted with.’

Gilbert smiled wryly, clenching his jaw and looking away from her. Then his gaze, very dark and even more intense, settled back on her face.

‘I see,’ he said quietly.

Something in the way he looked at her made Anne jerk her head to the side with a sharp, swift movement, and her flower crown slipped off her hair and fell to the ground.

‘Oh!’ she said in a small voice, bending down to retrieve it.

At the same instant, Gilbert stooped down swiftly as well, and their foreheads knocked together rather painfully.

‘Ouch! Careful, you idiot!’ Anne jumped up, her palm pressed against the sore spot close to the line of her hair.

Gilbert straightened up as well, the flower crown in his hand. A splash of red was beginning to show on his forehead, and, pointing to it, Anne said resentfully,

‘You see? You got us both hurt! Don’t you know it’s been scientifically proven that every time you bump your head against something, your brain gets _irretrievably_ damaged?’

Her squeaky tone caused the corners of Gilbert’s mouth to quirk up in an incipient smirk. ‘Console yourself with the thought both our brains are equally bad off,’ he replied with mock gravity, placing the flower crown on the top of her hair and then moving to draw her hand away from her forehead.

A small bump had already formed there, and he ran his fingers over it with such gentleness Anne couldn’t help shivering.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly, interpreting her reaction as a sign of pain. ‘But really, it’s just a bump. I’ve got one too, don’t I?’ his fingers moved to the injured spot on his own forehead.

‘ _Just_ a bump, indeed!’ Anne, angry with herself beyond all measure for the idiotic way in which she had reacted to his touch, was by now fairly fuming. ‘And what do you think people at school will think when we show up with _matching bumps_ tomorrow?’

This question, asked in Anne’s most dramatic tones, elicited an amused grin from Gilbert. ‘I’m sorry,’ he chuckled as she shot him a murderous glance. ‘It’s just the way you said it, as though it was the utmost tragedy. I’m sorry.’

‘You aren’t, you _never_ are!’ she replied hotly. ‘I hate you, Gilbert Blythe, I swear I do!’

Gilbert’s grin disappeared instantaneously, and he said, his eyes earnest, ‘Well, the feeling isn’t reciprocated.’ He scanned her face thoughtfully for a moment, and then said quietly, moving a step closer, ‘Besides, I don’t really believe you right now.’

Anne stared up at him unblinkingly, her whole body tingling all over under his gaze. ‘You should,’ she replied as firmly as she could. ‘Because I mean it.’

‘Do you?’ he asked, his fingers coming up to skim her cheek. ‘Do you, Anne?’

‘Gil,’ she whispered, hardly knowing what she meant.

However, she stopped caring the very next second, because Gilbert tilted her face up gently and his lips touched hers, softly and tentatively at first, and then, as she, with a gasp half of pleasure, half of relief, kissed him back, with greater daring and urgency.

After a few breathless moments, he drew away, and his eyes were full of such strong emotion as he looked into hers that Anne, quite overwhelmed, hid her face in the crook of his shoulder so that she might stop feeling so giddy.

As she stood leaning against him she felt Gilbert’s warm fingers touch the back of her neck.

‘Anne,’ he said quietly. ‘Look at me. I want to tell you something important.’

She looked up, certain that her cheeks must be the colour of her hair and that, overall, she must look absurd. Gilbert’s eyes, however, lit up at the sight of her glowing, trembling face.

‘Anne, this was the second kiss of my life. And you were present at the first one as well,’ he added, a roughish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘I could never even _consider_ kissing any other girl than you. That’s what I've been trying to tell you all along. Do you believe me?’

His familiarly teasing smile made Anne feel instantaneously less insecure. After all, this _was_ Gilbert, and she had nothing to be afraid of when she was with him - that is, not now when she stood there wrapped in his arms. The look in his eyes which she had thought so frightening before now seemed to warm her up to the very core of her being.

‘If I do, it’s only because you’re such a terrible liar I would be certain to notice if you were trying to dupe me now,’ she replied with an attempt at flippancy.

Gilbert merely laughed, and bent down to kiss the tip of her nose. ‘I wouldn’t _dare_ try to dupe you, now or ever,’ he said as he leaned away, his eyes twinkling.

Anne pointed to the bump on her forehead, now more viciously red than before. ‘You had best kiss this, too,’ she said shamelessly, the feeling of his warm lips against her skin being too exhilarating to leave much room for false prudishness. ‘Perhaps it’ll heal sooner.’

Gilbert chuckled again, and Anne could actually _feel_ it as she stood pressed close against him. The sensation was positively magical.

‘Any more wishes?’

She wanted nothing so much as to feel his lips on her own again, but the gnawing little voice was at her again, reminding her she still hadn’t explained her stupid manoeuvres of the classroom, and she knew she would not be able to enjoy Gilbert’s company to the full extent until that little foolishness got cleared up as well.

Accordingly, she disentangled herself from his arms, and, sliding her slender hand into his big, calloused one and revelling in the way their palms fit together perfectly, she said with a small smile,

‘Walk me home. I’m afraid the forest sprites have heard you when you said I was one of them, and might try to lure me away from my safe path.’

‘Well, I’ll have them know you’re not going anywhere,’ he replied, his fingers wrapping themselves more securely around hers.

‘Don’t worry, your commonsensical, painfully unromantic presence is going to scare them all clear away.’

‘ _Painfully unromantic_!’

‘That’s what Louise has said, or have you forgotten?’ inquired Anne with spurious innocence. ‘And she knows boys’ characters better than me, I should imagine.’

‘Imagine away.’ Gilbert tugged at her hand and, bringing her close, bent down and kissed her quickly on the ear. ‘But don’t be jealous, because you’ve no reason to.’

Anne turned her face towards him and gave him a long, pensive look.

‘I know that,’ she said eventually.

‘Good,’ he grinned. ‘I’m glad.’

‘You have nothing and nobody to be worry about, either,’ she went on. ‘When I talked about Jerry this morning, I meant he’s like family to me. You know, like a brother.’

‘I understand,’ he replied, his smile softening. ‘It was stupid of me to cross-examine you like that on his point. But, even though you may think it despicable, I must admit I did envy the way you spoke of him the other day.’

‘Trust me, I’d sooner cut my tongue out than speak like that to his face. And,’ she added, a little extra pink coming back to her cheeks. ‘I _do_ think plenty nice things of you, too.’

Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh, indeed? I’m all ears.’

‘I may tell you some time, provided you behave yourself and act towards me as nice and charming as towards everyone else instead of goading me out of all patience the way you’ve been doing lately.’

‘It’s not my fault you wouldn’t ever have a normal conversation with me!’ he replied with mock offence. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,’ he added hastily, seeing Anne’s face fall. ‘It’s okay, we are both equally to blame. I perhaps even more so. I should have just--‘

‘No, no, Gil, wait,’ she interrupted, her voice earnest. ‘I want to tell you something. Only,’ she sent him a somewhat uncertain smile, ‘I’m afraid you might think I am completely out of my mind after I do.’

He frowned at her funnily, but his eyes were serious. ‘Has it got anything to do with the dreadful secret of the real state your eyesight?’

Anne nodded, looking down at the path under their feet. ‘You know already it was all a lie. Everything is all right with my eyes. I just had to make up an excuse for swapping places with Diana.’

‘Okay. . .’ said Gilbert slowly, his brows furrowed slightly in confusion. ‘But you did have to have some real reason for wanting to change places, right?’

‘I did.’ Unwittingly, Anne clutched at Gilbert’s hand until her nails were fairly digging into his skin. ‘It was because of you.’

‘Me?’ he asked, letting out a bewildered little laugh.

‘Yes. It was to get away from you. To make it impossible for you to look at me.’

Gilbert stopped walking, and, to Anne’s dismay, let go of her hand. She felt her cheeks burn, and kept her gaze obstinately fixed on her boots.

His next words, however, as well as the genuinely apologetic tone of his voice, came as a total surprise.

‘Anne, I’m honestly sorry. I don’t really know what to say. You-- I don’t know, you should have told me. I didn’t realise I was making you so uncomfortable. I guess looking at you has just become a kind of-- a kind of reflex with me. I’m sorry.’

She looked up, wide-eyed. ‘You’re apologising to me? It’s _I_ who's been behaving like a hysterical fool!’

‘And it’s I who’s been behaving like a total creep,’ he countered. ‘I’m sorry. I promise I’ll stop--‘

‘I won’t mind _now_ , you idiot,’ Anne interrupted, rolling her eyes. ‘I mean, I probably will be even _more_ distracted, because I shall want to get up and kiss you,’ she finished impishly, and they both laughed.

‘So, is everything out on the table now?’ asked Gilbert, taking a step towards her and taking both her hands in his. ‘Or are you keeping any more dark secrets?’

‘None,’ she replied promptly.

‘Are you going to move back to your old seat, then? I promise I won’t throw paper balls at you,’ he added, grinning.

Anne scrunched up her nose. ‘On second thoughts, I don’t think I am. You’ll get bored of me all the sooner if you get to look at me for so many hours every day.’

‘Anne--‘ he began, looking genuinely hurt.

‘Shh.’ She rose up on tiptoe and kissed him quickly on the lips.

Gilbert tried to deepen the kiss, but she drew away and, freeing one of her hands, made him resume their walk.

‘You’re just being a tease right now, you know,’ he observed complainingly.

‘I must guard against your losing the thrill of the chase,’ said Anne sagely, sending him an arch sideways look. ‘Ask Louise. She’ll tell you all about it.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘Then stop bugging me and accept the facts. Men are easily bored creatures.’

‘I’m not.’

‘No, of course _you’re_ not,’ she sneered. ‘You are a walking, talking ideal.’

Gilbert stopped once again. ‘And _you_ , Anne Shirley, are both infuriating and impossible to get bored of,’ he said, bringing her closer.

‘What a catch,’ she giggled against his lips.


	9. a fledging soul awakes // and on the balcony she quakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soooo I know I said the previous chapter was the last one but I can't seem to let go of this fic just yet??  
> and I thought it might be fun to have a look at how these two idiots act at school now that they are ROMANTICALLY involved (yes, they are going to try to keep it secret :D)
> 
> i really like this chapter and I hope you guys do too!  
> (most of you are probably still asleep but it's just past noon here and I've a small study break so I'm posting lol)

‘I’m so glad you and Gilbert have finally come to an understanding.’

Anne looked up from the slate she was writing upon and stared at Diana with her best attempt at a lack of comprehension.

‘What do you mean?’

Diana narrowed her eyes at her. ‘You walked to school together this morning, or didn’t you?’

‘Yes, just like a _thousand_ times before,’ replied Anne with a dismissive shrug.

‘But not recently,’ Diana pointed out slyly.

‘Really, Diana, that’s just--‘

‘Girls! Really, this is your last warning,’ Miss Stacy gave them as stern a look as she was capable of mustering. ‘The seat next to Gilbert is empty, and either one of you is welcome to take it if you can’t keep yourselves from gossiping in the middle of class!’

Biting her lip, Anne went back to doing her sums.

Really, it would not do for Diana to go on saying such things!

 

***

 

Before she and Gilbert parted the previous evening, Anne told him she’d like to keep the changed nature of their relationship secret from their schoolfellows, at least for a few days.

‘Why?’ he inquired, gazing at her in a way that made her feel he could easily read her mind if he’d only try.

She dropped her eyes to the ground. ‘It’s because of one of my friend’s got a crush on you,’ she said, rushing over the words nervously. ‘Like, a really massive crush. She’d never forgive me if. . . if she got to know about-- about us.’

‘It’s Ruby, isn’t it?’ Gilbert asked calmly.

Anne looked up at him with a miserable smile. There was a slight frown on his face.

‘Gil, _please_ ,’ she said, wringing her hands.

He gave her a crooked half-smile. ‘So, do you plan on keeping it secret forever so that Ruby Gillis may not get her feelings hurt?’

_Forever._ What a nice word.

‘A few days,’ Anne said doggedly. ‘Perhaps, like, two weeks. So that you might be sure really you--‘

‘I _am_ sure,’ he cut in sternly, crossing his arms. ‘Aren’t you?’

Instead of replying in words, Anne, marvelling internally at how naturally it came to her, took his face in her hands and kissed him softly on the lips. Gilbert relaxed, covering her palms with his own.

‘I just want you to be sure you won’t change your mind after thinking it all over in a cold, reasonable way,’ she quipped rather lamely, drawing away.

Gilbert let out an incredulous snort. ‘I don’t think it’s possible for me to think about _you_ in a reasonable way, Anne. You may believe it or not, but I am not going to suddenly stop liking you _now_ ,’ he said with a smile that sent a spark right through Anne’s heart.

She gazed at him silently for a moment, her cheeks pink and her eyes limpid.

‘Just give me a few days to prepare her for the news, then,’ she pleaded again.

‘All right,’ replied Gilbert.

When Anne was looking at him like that, there wasn’t much he would have been able to deny her.

 

***

 

‘Anne, you’re looking very pretty today,’ said Tillie as they sat chatting in their usual corner.

‘Glowing,’ chimed in Diana meaningfully.

Anne pretended to huff, internally grateful that Gilbert had gone out for the duration of the lunchbreak this time. ‘Very funny, Diana. I suppose what you mean is that I look less awful than I did yesterday.’

‘Than you did any time since the beginning of the school year, yes,’ said Diana, undaunted by Anne’s offended airs.

‘Do you want to know what Maisie Sloane told me on the way to school this morning?’ asked Jane in conspiratory tones, successfully preventing Anne and Diana from further cavil. ‘At first I wouldn’t believe it, but she says she’s got it on _first-hand_ authority!’

Everyone looked at her with due measure of interest.

‘Gilbert Blythe is engaged to be married!’ said Jane in a piercing whisper.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Ruby burst into violent sobs.

‘Calm down, Ruby!’ urged Anne, sliding up to the blonde girl and putting an arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s not true, I promise you it isn’t!’

‘Yeah, and how would _you_ know?’ asked Jane a bit sneeringly.

‘I think we all realise it’s sheer nonsense. Gilbert is far too young to be engaged to anyone,’ put in Diana in a reasonable voice.

‘He could easily pass for older than he really is, though,’ observed Tillie with a giggle. ‘He’s so tall and always acts so very mature. My aunt, when she came to visit last week and saw him in church, simply _wouldn’t_ believe he’s only eighteen!’

‘This does not change the fact that he’s got nothing to marry on,’ persisted Diana. ‘I mean, he’s got his farm, but we all know he wants to become a doctor. That means he’s got _years_ of studies before him, and the need to save as much money as he possibly can.’

‘And by the time he finishes medical school, you’ll be just old enough to get married, Ruby,’ put in Tillie comfortingly.

Jane looked downright offended at such an aggregate rejection of her grand news. ‘Won’t you even ask me whom he’s suppose to be engaged to?’ she asked tersely.

‘Is it Mary Lacroix’s cousin, Louise Hamilton?’

Everyone’s attention instantaneously switched to Anne, who willed her cheeks not to get red.

‘Have you talked to Maisie as well?’ asked Jane, an accusatory note in her voice.

‘No, but I have been to Gilbert’s house when Louise was staying there,’ replied Anne as calmly as she could. ‘And I can assure you, Ruby, that there was not the _slightest_ sign of their being interested in each other.’

‘I don’t see why you should think yourself such an expert on the subject of Gilbert Blythe’s emotions, Anne,’ observed Jane bitterly. ‘If anything, I’d say he likes you _less_ than other girls. The way he behaves towards you is really almost offensive sometimes. _I_ would never stand for it.’

Anne pursed her lips into a tight line to prevent herself from smiling. As she did so, she thought about the way _Gilbert’s_ lips had tasted last afternoon when he kissed her goodbye. It was sweet, but at the same time spicy, and then again it was simply not to be described by means of such mundane adjectives as these. . .

‘Anne! Are you listening?’

She sat up, blinking hard. ‘Yes?’

‘I said, don’t you think it would be wonderful if Miss Stacy allowed us to organise a farewell party for the students who are due to finish school this year?’ asked Tillie excitedly.

Evidently, the subject of Gilbert Blythe’s love life had been dropped while Anne was lost in her reverie.

‘A farewell party?’ she asked, furrowing her brows. ‘Is that a thing?’

‘It _could_ be,’ said Ruby, still sniffing a little.

‘We could organise it now, while it’s still relatively warm outside,’ Diana elaborated eagerly. ‘It would make no sense to try to organise anything of the kind in the spring, when you - I mean the Queen’s group - will be in the thick of examinations. But now, why not?’

‘I suppose it could be nice,’ replied Anne slowly.

‘Oh, Anne, it would be simply _divine_!’ squealed Ruby excitedly. ‘Can you imagine what a chance it would be for me to make an impression on Gilbert? Oh, I’d get mother to get me the most _terrific_ dress!’

Anne, who had neither hopes nor the intention of getting a new dress anytime soon, suddenly felt irritated.

‘I’m sure you would,’ she said coolly.

Ruby was too wrapped up in her own sweet imaginings to mind nuances of intonation, but Diana shot her friend a quick, sharp look.

 

***

 

‘Can I walk you home?’ asked Gilbert as Anne and Diana came out of the schoolhouse into the warm afternoon.

‘Who are you asking, me or Anne?’ Diana inquired laughingly.

‘Both of you.’ His eyes flitted to Anne, who obstinately kept her face averted. ‘But it’s enough that you agree, Di, since Miss Sulky here is obviously not in a communicative mood.’

So they set off all three together, Diana walking in the middle.

After a few minutes of general conversation, accompanied by obstinate silence on Anne’s part, Diana asked innocently, ‘Gilbert, is it true that you are no longer a free man?’

‘Diana!’ protested Anne hotly.

Gilbert looked from one of the girls to the other with a confused frown. Catching his eye, Anne tried to convey to him that he should act completely clueless.

‘What exactly are we talking about?’ he asked, transferring his gaze to Diana.

‘How do you think?’ she countered archly.

‘How should he know?’ put in Anne impatiently, unable to contain herself. ‘It’s about some stupid rumours Maisie Sloane has been spreading.’

‘Maisie Sloane?’ repeated Gilbert with genuine bewilderment.

Diana nodded. ‘She says you’re seriously involved with. . . what was the name again, Anne?’

‘Louise Hamilton.’

‘That’s the one. Maisie says you’re engaged to marry her.’

Gilbert laughed an incredulous, somewhat strained laugh. ‘Is someone really spreading such rumours? That’s absurd.’

‘That’s exactly what Anne said right away,’ chimed in Diana. ‘Isn’t that right, Anne? You said you knew for certain it couldn’t be true, because you saw with your own two eyes that there was not a grain of affection between Gilbert and that Louise girl.’

‘Yes,’ said Anne stiffly.

Gilbert shot her a quick glance, and she met his eyes defiantly.

‘This is where I leave you,’ said Diana, making them both transfer their gaze to her rather abruptly. She waved at them with a sweet, dimpled smile and turned into the road leading to the Barrys’ house.

Anne started walking down the opposite path, and after a few steps she felt Gilbert’s warm fingers close around her chilly ones.

‘Diana knows, Gilbert,’ she said unhappily without looking round at him. ‘Am I so bad at hiding it?’

‘To the contrary,’ he chuckled. ‘I myself have almost started believing yesterday never happened. Care to remind me?’

‘Are you crazy? We’re out in the open in broad dayli--‘

Before Anne could finish, Gilbert spun her round and, putting his free hand on the back of her neck, pressed his lips to hers, more passionately than he had ever done yet.

The kiss was over in a matter of seconds, but it left Anne gazing at him wide-eyed nonetheless.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking almost as dazed as she felt. ‘It’s just that I’ve had to go all these hours without kissing you. And yes, before you ask me again, I _am_ crazy.’

‘I’m glad we agree on that point,’ replied Anne somewhat breathily.

Gilbert’s smile widened, and he tugged at her hand, resuming their walk.

‘What’s all that nonsense about the engagement, anyway?’ he asked after a moment’s silence.

‘You tell me. Whatever it is, it made Ruby cry.’

‘Oh,’ he said, furrowing his brows.

‘Yeah, exactly.’ Anne shrugged her shoulders. ‘So I told her I knew for a fact it wasn’t true.’

‘Well, you _do_ know it isn’t,’ he said soberly.

Anne gave him a long sideways look. ‘I know you’re not engaged to her. I don’t know whether or not you like her.’

‘I like _you_ ,’ he shot back instantly. ‘You know that as well.’

‘But there had to be something to start Maisie talking. Charlie must have told her something. _You_ must have said something to Charlie.’

Anne knew she risked making Gilbert annoyed, but she simply _had_ to know.

However, his reaction was not what she expected.

‘You know, Anne, now that I think about it,’ he said, slowly and pensively. ‘I _do_ remember telling him that Louise is a terribly pretty girl, in addition to being charming and funny.’

It seemed to Anne her blood froze in her veins. ‘Oh, indeed?’ she asked through her teeth. ‘Well, no wonder Maisie constructed a prospective marriage out of a description like this.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

The completely unconcerned tone of voice in which Gilbert spoke made Anne snap. She whirled round on him, her eyes flashing.

Her angry words, however, died on her lips as soon as she saw that he was _laughing_.

‘Gilbert!’ she screeched, giving him a shove in the chest. ‘How dare you! Ugh! This is unbelievable!’

‘I’m sorry,’ he chuckled, backing away to evade another push. ‘It’s just that I never thought you were capable of being so jealous. Not of me, anyway.’

‘Indeed!’

Sticking her chin up in the air, Anne slung her braid over her shoulder with a contemptuous gesture and began to walk on.

Gilbert’s arms caught her round the waist, and she felt his lips against her ear.

‘Anne, however pretty or charming Louise may be, she could never even compare to you,’ he whispered. ‘You’re something else entirely.’

‘Something else?’ she repeated scornfully, trying not to let on how much she loved the feeling of his body pressed so close to her own. ‘As in, you find it convenient to keep my company because it benefits you educationally?’

‘What?’ he asked with an uncertain chuckle, moving to her side and taking her once again by the hand.

‘Your words, not mine,’ Anne said dryly. ‘Also, when asked whether you thought I am as pretty as Louise, you were kind enough to observe I always look “nice”.’

‘Because you do. You always look very, very nice.’

‘I congratulate you on your compliment-paying skills, Mr Blythe.’

‘Very nice,’ Gilbert went on as though he had not heard her at all. ‘So _very_ nice that I could not concentrate at all today during class, because all could think about was how much I want to kiss that little freckle here,’ he bent down swiftly and placed a quick kiss in the corner of her mouth.

‘Gilbert, I’m trying to make a point here!’ Anne had meant to give him a stern look, but ended up responding to his laughter with a small giggle of her own. ‘Besides, that’s not true. There aren’t any freckles in that particular spot, thank God.’

‘Wrong again,’ replied Gilbert with a self-satisfied smirk. ‘I’m getting to be rather an expert on the placement of freckles on your face, and there is a particularly enchanting and kissable one in just that spot.’

‘Then it must have appeared there during the night!' said Anne with dismay. 'It’s because of all the sunshine there has been recently. Really, those accursed freckles are the bane of my existence.’

‘They’re one of the blessings of mine, though.’

Anne had meant to roll her eyes at that, but an impulse she could not quite suppress made her ask instead, her voice somewhat small, ‘Do you really like them, Gil? Don’t say you do if it’s just to pacify me. Tell me the truth.’

Gilbert looked at her with his usual teasing smile, but something in her face made him pause and then, putting his free hand up to her cheek and tracing a line down the constellations of freckles there, he said softly, ‘I swear I really, _really_ do like them, Anne. Each and every one of them.’

His manner at the moment was so tender Anne felt dangerously close to tears and, since she didn’t particularly relish the prospect of making Gilbert think her a complete fool, she gave him a small smile and began to walk on again.

‘Well, and have you heard about the girls’ newest idea?’ she asked rather at random. ‘They want to throw us a sort of farewell party.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘I don’t know. I don’t much care for dancing. And I’ve grown out of my--‘ Suddenly, she remembered the incident of the candles, and, giving Gilbert a quick look, went on indifferently, ‘Well, never mind. I hope they do throw it, if it’s only so that Ruby might cheer herself up a bit by showing off all her finery.’

Throughout this somewhat meandering speech, Gilbert kept his eyes fixed on Anne’s face, his eyebrows lowered in thought. When she had finished speaking, he said slowly, ‘Anne, I honestly think you’re exaggerating the whole Ruby situation. It’s all just something she’s made up in her head. If we just told her about us straight away, she’d get over it in no time.’

Anne’s eyebrows shot up sceptically. ‘Louise was right again. A boy will never understand how important to a girl of Ruby’s disposition a crush is, even if she’s just _made it up in her head_.’

They had come within sight of Green Gables, and she turned towards Gilbert to say goodbye.

‘Feel free to talk to Diana during class tomorrow, so that Miss Stacy makes you move to the seat next to me,’ he said with a smirk.

Anne rose up on tiptoe and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. ‘Don’t even dream about it. It’s not happening. You’d do nothing but think up new ways to annoy me.’

‘Unjust!’ he protested, letting her go unwillingly.

Laughing, Anne waved him goodbye and ran up the path to the gate.


	10. I have only two emotions: careful fear & dead devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Gil is outta control :D)  
> (and yes, Mary is a dressmaker by profession, don't ask why or how)  
> (also, neither Mary nor Marilla have yet been told officially that Anne and Gilbert are 'courting'. They're acting the way they are because they know what's up anyway lol)

For the first time in his life, Gilbert was glad it was Marilla who opened the Green Gables front door to him and not her red-haired charge.

‘Hello, Gilbert.’ She gave him that warm smile which, Anne had once said, he seemed to be the only person capable of eliciting for no apparent reason. ‘I’m afraid you’ve just missed Anne. She’s gone over to the Barrys’--‘

‘I know, Miss Cuthbert,’ he interrupted, rather anxious to get the question he had come to ask over and done with. ‘It’s you I’ve come to see.’

‘Me?’ Marilla raised her eyebrows. ‘Why, I’m sure I’m delighted. Come on in, then-‘

‘No, no,’ said Gilbert quickly, shifting uncomfortably. ‘It’s just a small question I want to ask you, and then I have to hurry back home.’

‘A question? To ask me?’ repeated Marilla, audibly surprised.

‘Yes. It’s about-‘ Gilbert took a deep breath, and started again. ‘Miss Cuthbert, I want you to know first of all that I have no intention of offending you. I’m afraid you may take my request the wrong way, and-‘

‘You’re behaving just like my Anne when she’s about to confess to some mischief,’ Marilla put in with a sniff. ‘Just tell me and have it off your chest.’

Flashing her a small apologetic smile, Gilbert blurted out, stumbling over the words and hardly pausing for breath, ‘The girls at our school are planning to get up a small party in honour of the students who graduate this year. And I know, from something Anne let drop, that she’s worried she won’t have anything pretty to wear for the occasion. And I want to ask your permission to buy some nice fabric so that Mary may make a dress for her.’

Marilla’s eyebrows shot up even higher. ‘ _Anne_ has complained to _you_ that she’s _nothing pretty to wear_?’

‘No, no,’ Gilbert negated hastily. ‘She’s actually taken care not to say anything about it. But I- I’ve drawn my own conclusions,’ he ploughed on, feeling extremely uncomfortable. ‘I’m not wrong, Miss Cuthbert, am I?’

‘No, you’re not,’ replied Marilla, softening a little. ‘That girl seems to have grown in all possible directions during this past summer, so I suppose everyone’s noticed it.’

‘Yes - exactly,’ Gilbert stuttered, feeling his cheeks heat up. ‘So, will you allow me to do it, Miss Cuthbert?’

‘To buy Anne a new dress?’

‘Yes.’

‘And, if I may ask, don’t you have anything more important to spend money on?’

Gilbert’s looked down at his hands, clenching his jaw a little, and then back up at Marilla.

‘Anne _is_ important,’ he said, his voice level and quiet.

Marilla nodded, looking at him with eyes that seemed to suddenly grow a little brighter.

‘I see,’ she replied, sounding strangely rusty. She cleared her throat and went on, a warning note entering her voice. ‘But you know very well how stubborn and proud my Anne can be. Are you quite sure she’d be willing to accept this kind of present from you? I wouldn’t want you to be spending money in vain.’

The embarrassed look was back on Gilbert’s face in an instant. ‘I know. That’s why there’s one more thing I want to ask you, Miss Cuthbert. Will you consent to give this dress to Anne as a present from yourself?’

Normally, Marilla would never agree to play accomplice in an act of deception - for that was what Gilbert’s proposition amounted to. However, remembering the words he had uttered just a moment before and the way in which he had spoken them, she merely asked,

‘Are you sure you’re willing to do something like this and get no credit for it?’

To her surprise, Gilbert let out a short, dry laugh. ‘Doing “something like this” would get me no credit with Anne, Miss Cuthbert. To the contrary. She wouldn’t believe I don’t want anything in return.’

‘And are _you_ sure you don’t?’ probed Marilla mercilessly.

‘I am,’ he replied with decisiveness, his eyes unflinching. ‘I don’t want to buy her affection. I want to _earn_ it. I hope you believe me, Miss Cuthbert.’

Marilla looked at him, nodding again. ‘I do, my dear boy,’ she said quietly. ‘And I agree to help you.’

Thanking her in a few concise, earnest words, Gilbert went back home, his heart light as a feather. Anne _was_ going to have a new dress after all, and he knew Mary would take care that it was just as beautiful as its prospective owner deserved.

 

***

 

‘See you, Anne!’ Ruby called out cheerfully while Diana, who sat next to her, smiled ruefully from her parents’ carriage window. ‘Keep your fingers crossed for me so that I might be in time to get that turquoise muslin my mother saw at the draper’s shop! She said there was only enough of it for _one_ purchase!’

And the vehicle rolled away, leaving Anne standing in the dust it had raised with a strained smile plastered on her face. In spite of her best efforts, she was feeling very ill-used by the forces which had deemed she should live in a universe where nice outfits cost too much to be easily affordable.

‘Turquoise is a kind of greenish blue, isn’t it?’

She turned round and saw Gilbert, a somewhat enigmatic smile on his face. He came up to her and, looking quickly round the schoolyard to make sure it was empty, kissed her on the lips.

Anne wanted nothing so much as to be able to just melt into him. All too soon, however, she remembered where they were, and, disregarding Gilbert’s hum of protest, broke away.

‘It is,’ she said with a laugh, beginning to walk towards the path home and sending him an amused glance over her shoulder.

‘What is what?’ Gilbert, whose brain had not yet recovered from the way Anne had seemed to surrender completely, if only for the briefest moment, to his touch, asked uncomprehendingly.

‘Turquoise. It is a kind of greenish blue. Although that is a barbarously prosaic way of putting it.’

Gilbert caught up with her and, simultaneously, caught her by the hand.

‘How would you describe it, then?’ he asked, trying to sound merely teasing and not genuinely anxious to hear her answer.

‘I’d say that it’s one of the few colours which I can imagine a mermaid wear,’ Anne replied promptly. ‘You know, Andersen’s Little Mermaid.’

 _This_ was not a very telling answer.

‘Is that . . . good?’ Gilbert queried, his mask of unconcern slipping for a moment.

‘I suppose it is. She did love the prince with a true, all-consuming love, after all. Anyway, why are you so serious about it all of a sudden?’ Anne asked, noticing his intent expression.

‘No reason,’ Gilbert said quickly, shrugging his shoulders. ‘I mean, there _is_ a reason,’ he amended, his smirk reasserting itself. ‘It’s that I want to know your opinion on every possible subject. Also, I like to hear you talk.’

Anne had meant to reply bitingly, but when she looked into his eyes and instead of mockery saw warmth, earnestness and something else, something she was afraid to even try to name, she kept silent. Instead, she squeezed his fingers a little tighter and moved a little closer to his side.

He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head. ‘Have you got a spare half-hour?’

‘I very much do,’ Anne replied, sighing a little. ‘I was going to go to Ruby’s with her and Diana, but at the last moment Diana’s mother decided to take them shopping to Charlottetown.’

 She was careful to keep any note of envy out of her voice, and, judging by the way Gilbert seemed completely uninterested in this explanation, she was successful. Well, she couldn’t expect _a boy_ to sympathise with her on the subject of dresses; not even if the boy was Gil. Besides, to make him feel sorry for her was the last thing Anne wanted.

‘Would you mind coming over to my house for a few minutes, then? I found some old books in the attic that you might want to have. I’d help you carry them over to Green Gables.’

Anne’s eyes lit up. ‘Books? Oh, how lovely! But,’ she added warily, ‘I suppose what you meant to say was that I might want to _borrow_ them?’

Gilbert laughed, hoping she couldn’t hear the slightly strained note in his voice. ‘It’s just a bunch of old, musty books, Anne, not a brand-new set of Shakespeare, however much I’d like to be able to offer you just that.’

‘I was just making sure,’ she replied, pouting.

‘Well, now you have, are you coming or not?’

She rolled her eyes, albeit smilingly. ‘Of course I am.’

‘Great,’ he grinned.

But his heart beat just the slightest bit faster than it normally did.

 

***

 

‘ _Anne_ Brontë?’ Anne’s eyes positively shone as she looked at the cover of the book lying on the top of the little pile stacked on Gilbert’s kitchen table. ‘I never knew Charlotte had a sister by the name of _Anne_!’ She turned to Gilbert, who stood watching her with a small, soft smile. ‘Gil, isn’t that simply thrilling? She managed to become a published authoress _in spite of_ having to bear the burden of such an odiously commonplace name!’

Gilbert blinked rapidly, fighting off a snicker. ‘Aren’t you a bit hard on that poor harmless name? It’s done nothing wrong.’

She sighed unhappily. ‘I suppose not.’

‘Besides, ‘Anne’ is not at all common. It fits you perfectly. It’s a royal name.’

‘So’s Brunhilda,’ rejoined Anne tersely. ‘Does _it_ ‘fit me perfectly’ as well?’         

Gilbert opened his mouth to disclaim any such conviction, but at the same moment Mary appeared at the kitchen door carrying a huge pail of water.

‘Hello there, kids,’ she smiled at them, pausing on the threshold and wiping perspiration off her forehead.

They were both at her side in an instant, each holding out a hand to the pail’s handle.

‘I would have helped you if you’d only called me, Mary,’ Gilbert said in an admonishing tone, grabbing hold of the object a split second before Anne.

‘I didn’t want to interrupt,’ the older woman replied with a meaningful smile at Anne. ‘Wait, just put it down here-‘

She made to squeeze past him and into the kitchen, but by some unfortunate chance one of her feet just caught the pail’s underside and knocked it out of Gilbert’s hands, spilling the contents all over Anne’s skirt.

‘Oh my God, Anne darling, I’m so sorry!’ cried Mary, grabbing hold of the girl’s wrist and dragging her out into the hall. ‘But don’t worry. I’ll give you something of my own to change into, and your things won’t be any the worse for this accident, because it was just clean water in the pail. I’ll get them dried and you can come collect them tomorrow.’

So prattling, she fairly pushed Anne upstairs.

In the kitchen, Gilbert, sighing with relief, made the books into a neat parcel, first slipping a small white envelope into one of them.

 

***

 

When, having walked Anne to Green Gables, he came back home half an hour later, Mary greeted him with the smile of a person who knows she has done her job.

‘You see, I told you we could pull it off,’ she said. ‘I’ll take the measurements as soon as the things are thoroughly dry. And, let me tell you, Gilbert, Anne will look simply _gorgeous_ in that colour we chose. What was it called again? Something fancy, I know.’

‘Turquoise,’ replied Gilbert with a wide grin. ‘And yes, she will.’

 

***

 

It was only after she had gone upstairs to bed that Anne was finally able to undo the package containing Gilbert’s mother’s old books. She took them out one by one, looking at each with a smile of anticipated pleasure.

Suddenly, something white slipped out of one of them and onto her bed. An envelope, unsigned and apparently brand new.

Her heart skipping a beat, Anne picked it up gently. It was very light.

Perhaps it was empty, and she the silliest little fool on planet Earth.

But it wasn’t empty. There was something soft in it.

A hair ribbon.

It was white, and silky, and frilled with a thin strip the most delicate lace Anne had ever seen.

There was also a small piece of paper, scribbled over closely in Gilbert’s neat handwriting.

_Anne, I swear to you this hasn't cost me anything. If you must know - and I know you must - it’s a leftover from some grand lady’s purchase, and the shop girl would have thrown it away if I had not asked her to let me have it. And if you try to give it back I’ll have to either throw it away or else give it to Josie Pye, so weigh your options wisely. Don’t stay up reading too late. Sleep well. Love, Gilbert._


	11. staring at the sky // watching stars collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's a rather short one, but it's better than nothing, right?  
> it's been a hell of a week, so please excuse any typos/mistakes!

The first thing Anne did upon waking up the next day was slip her hand under the pillow. Her fingers touched the paper of the envelope containing Gilbert’s note, and she smiled. It was there; everything that had happened the day before was true.

She was so absent-minded all through breakfast that when she finally made it out of the front door she was certain she’d be late for school. This, to her chagrin, meant she would not get the chance to talk to Gilbert in private until late in the afternoon.

As she turned the corner which brought her in view of the schoolhouse, she caught sight of a tall figure walking with his hands in his pockets some hundred metres ahead of her.

‘Gil!’ Anne called out, quickening her pace to a trot.

He must not have heard, for he kept on his way. Anne only managed to catch up with him almost right in front of the schoolhouse door. Without much thought, she grabbed him by the hand.

‘Hey!’ Gilbert turned round with a frown, but his whole face lit up the moment he saw it was her. ‘Anne! What-‘

‘Shh!’ she hissed, pulling him to the side and behind the nearby corner of the building, so that he ended up with his back against the wall, looking down at her with a confused smile. Then, she grasped him by the lapels of his coat and, pushing herself up on tiptoe, pressed her lips to his, quick and hard.

Instantly, Gilbert’s hands came up to cup her face, and, letting out a small contented sigh, Anne let him deepen the kiss, revelling in the sweet urgency with which his mouth worked against her own and which made her feel like her whole body was crying out for his touch.

After what seemed a small eternity, he pulled away.

‘What exactly was this?’ he asked in a voice that sent tingles down Anne’s spine, his eyes dark and somewhat dazed as he gazed into her flushed face.

‘A thank-you,’ she replied breathily. ‘For the ribbon. It’s lovely.’

‘ _You_ are lovely,’ he countered, leaning down to kiss her again.

‘Gil, school,’ Anne giggled against his lips. ‘We’re already late. Wait, no,’ she added, her tone changing from arch to anxious as she pulled away from his embrace. ‘We can’t possibly go in there together like this. You have to wait here a moment.’

Gilbert’s eyes crinkled up at the corners, his smile widening. ‘I think it’s you who should wait outside a moment, Anne. You’re looking rather--’ he trailed off as his eyes swept over her glowing face and kisses-swollen lips, and he made to pull her closer again.

‘Rather what?’ she asked, trying, ineffectually, to wrench herself out of his grasp.

‘Rather like you’ve just been in the company of someone who likes you very much,’ he whispered against her ear, and she couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her whole frame, making Gilbert’s hold on her waist tighten in response. ‘See?’ he chuckled quietly. ‘Very, very much.’

With an indignant squeak, Anne slid out of his arms and gave him a shove on the chest.

‘I’m going in right now,’ she announced haughtily. ‘And you’re not to follow before at least five minutes. And, for God’s sake, don’t you _dare_ be smirking like this when you do come in!’

Without further parley, she entered the classroom, gave Miss Stacy a small smile of apology, and slid into her seat, ignoring Diana’s interrogatory stare.

After a moment, the door opened again and Gilbert came in, looking so perfectly cool and collected Anne wondered whether she wasn’t reading too much into that small ‘love’ at the end of the note she received the day before.

However, as he was heading towards his own desk his eyes met hers for a brief moment, and all her doubts were momentarily laid to rest.

Diana’s head snapped towards her.

‘What was _that_?’ she asked with a gasp. ‘Honestly, you two ought to put the banns up already! I swear that the way he looks at you is positively indecent sometimes.’

‘Diana!’ Anne stared at her friend in wide-eyed shock. ‘How can you talk like this? Gilbert’s just a frie--‘

‘Girls, quiet!’

 

***

 

‘. . .and apparently the turquoise fabric was bought only a few minutes after mother left the shop,’ Ruby finished her somewhat long-winded description of the shopping expedition of the day before. ‘I was terribly sorry at first, but then I spotted some really splendid mauve taffeta and got that instead.’

‘You’re so lucky to be able to wear pink,’ said Anne wistfully. ‘It really _is_ the most romantical colour. Only, _I_ don’t in the least look romantical in it. It makes my hair appear even more carrot-like than usually.’

‘You’re exaggerating, Anne,’ Diana put in sensibly. ‘Your hair is way less red now than when you first came to live here. I’d say it’s well on its way to becoming auburn. Honestly, now that I think about it, _you_ would look extremely nice in a turquoise dress. It’s a pity--’ She recollected herself and broke off abruptly, clasping a hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--‘

‘Please, don’t feel bad about my not having anything new to wear,’ Anne interrupted with a reassuring smile. ‘My presence at that party is going to be purely perfunctory. I never dance anyway. That is,’ she added with a small laugh, ‘not in public.’

Rolling her eyes, Diana opened her mouth to retort, but Ruby cut in excitedly.

‘Don’t you think it would be a lovely idea to pair up for the first dance? My cousin Sara says they always do that over there in the States.’

‘Do what?’ asked Anne, knitting her brows. ‘What do you mean, pair up?’

‘You know, every boy asks a girl to save the first dance for him. Or a girl can ask a boy,’ Ruby went on, her eyes lighting up. ‘What do you say?’

‘Well--‘ began Diana somewhat uncertainly, glancing over at Anne from the corner of her eye. ‘I mean--‘

‘Oh, Diana, don’t pretend to dither, you know _you_ ’ll have _plenty_ of offers!’ said Ruby pleadingly. ‘Anne says she doesn’t care for dancing, so that’s all right,’ she went on, oblivious to Anne’s sudden pallor and the quick look she cast at Gilbert’s back. ‘And I. . .’ a small, self-assured smile formed on her lips. ‘I am going to see to it that I end up paired with a person I like!’

‘You mean, you’re going to ask Gilbert to save you that first dance,’ Diana pointed out dryly.

Ruby shushed her with an anxious look in Gilbert’s direction, while Anne, looking down at her hands, said slowly,

‘All right, I suppose we might as well try it. But we have to ask the rest of the girls for their opinion first. Let’s wait till tomorrow.’

Ruby consented happily, in no visible doubt as to the satisfactory outcome of her plan.

 

***

 

‘All right, Anne, out with it.’

Starting a little, she looked up. Gilbert was gazing at her expectantly, and as her eyes met his he flashed her an encouraging half-smile.

‘Out with what?’ she asked evasively, looking back down at the ground under her feet.

‘That thing that’s been eating you up all day,’ he replied in a no-nonsense voice. ‘Come on, Anne, do you think I can’t see how restless you’ve been since lunch break?’

‘And do you think _I_ don’t know that _you’re_ only always staying inside the classroom so that you can listen in on our conversations?’ she shot back testily. ‘Which means that you know very well what it is that I’m worried about! So _there_!’

Pulling her by the hand that he was holding, Gilbert swung Anne round to face him. She sent him a murderous glance, and he responded with a sceptical lift of one eyebrow.

‘It’s Ruby again, isn’t it?’

Anne pursed her lips into a tight line. ‘When she asks you to promise to dance that first dance with her tomorrow, I want you to agree,’ she said, looking away from his face and trying hard to keep her voice neutral.

Gilbert laughed a short, sharp laugh, making Anne look up.

‘Anne, don’t you think that my giving her false hope like this is just going to make things more difficult?’ he asked coolly, letting go of her hand and folding his arms on his chest. ‘Besides, what if I want _you_ to promise that you’ll save the first dance for me?’

‘ _I_ won’t be dancing at all,’ replied Anne hotly. ‘I’ve told you that already. And I want Ruby to have that one dance. I should hope that if she was in my place she’d do the same for me. One dance, Gil,’ she went on in a milder voice, gazing up at him pleadingly. ‘I’ve been so impossibly happy ever since-- ever since we’ve explained things to each other,’ she finished with a small, shy smile. ‘I feel that I don’t have the right to monopolise you like this. I--‘

‘I fully enjoy being monopolised by you, thank you very much,’ Gilbert interrupted with a soft chuckle, breaking down under Anne’s appealing stare. He took both her hands in his and pulled her in until they were no more than a breath away.

Anne’s smile widened, and she turned her face a little to the side and away from his. ‘Promise you’ll agree,’ she said, fighting the urge to give in to the overwhelming desire to just let him kiss all her worries away.

‘I promise,’ Gilbert replied, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek as he pressed his mouth to hers. ‘But,’ he added with a smirk, breaking away almost immediately, which caused Anne to emit an involuntary murmur of protest, ‘you have to promise to dance the _second_ dance with me in return.’

In response, Anne closed the distance between their lips once again. She was both amazed and a little afraid by how much she wanted to just keep touching Gilbert, to keep having him touch her. Diana’s words about how the way they looked at each other was ‘positively indecent’ came back to her mind, making her freeze momentarily.

‘What is it?’ asked Gilbert, leaning away from her a little to be able to see her face. A worried expression came into his eyes. ‘Have I- do you-‘ he stuttered, unsure what caused her sudden retreat into herself. ‘What is it, Anne?’

She felt her cheeks heat up, and, disentangling herself from his arms, resumed walking down the path towards his house.

Gilbert slid his palm into hers and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, making her look up. His eyes were serious as they scanned her face anxiously, searchingly.

 ‘Anne, if I ever do something you don’t like, or if you think we’re going to fast, just tell me,’ he said earnestly. ‘The last thing I want is to make you do anything against your will.’

‘But that’s just it, Gil,’ she replied, looking away to hide the blush that suffused her face. ‘That’s the trouble. I like it all so very much. I’m afraid I like it almost _too_ much. I feel like it’s written all over my face for everyone to see.’

‘Well, as you see I’m not sure about it myself, so I don’t think it is,’ he said with a confused little chuckle. ‘But I’m serious, Anne. I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to do anything you’re not one hundred per cent fine with doing. I’d really like to believe that you know you can feel safe when you’re with me.’

‘Of course I know that, Gil,’ Anne said impatiently. ‘I just don’t want people to get all gossipy and awful about you.’

‘About us,’ he corrected promptly. ‘And,’ he added teasingly, ‘so long as I get to kiss you, I don’t care if they do.’

Anne gave him a shove on the arm with her right hand, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that the fingers of her left one were tightly intertwined with his own.

Once they arrived at Gilbert’s house they were greeted by Mary, who, amid renewed apologies, returned to Anne her thoroughly dried articles of clothing.

‘Remember your promise, in case I don’t get to see you tomorrow before class starts,’ Anne said as Gilbert walked her to the gate.

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I will, but I still think we’re not doing Ruby any favours.’

Anne turned to face him, frowning a little. ‘Stop saying that. You’re making it worse.’

‘ _You_ ’re making it worse by refusing to treat Ruby like a reasonable human being.’

‘Oh, _shut up_.’

‘Make me.’

She did, but pulled away quickly for fear Mary should inadvertently happen to look through one of the windows.

‘Don’t be late for school tomorrow,’ Gilbert said, letting go of Anne’s hand unwillingly. ‘Or, actually, perhaps do, but only provided you greet me the way you did today.’

Anne rolled her eyes, sliding out of the gate. ‘Forget it. I’m never doing _that_ again. Diana was all meaningful and knowing about it. It’s insufferable. I can already imagine how smug she’ll act once we--‘

‘Once we admit she was right about our liking each other from the start?’ supplied Gilbert with mock innocence.

Letting out an indignant sniff, Anne blew him a farewell kiss and ran down the shortcut path to Green Gables. If only it weren’t for the anxiety about Ruby, she felt she could easily lay claim to being the happiest girl on Prince Edward Island.

If only.


	12. I’ve got a body of wonder and an emerald mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> figured I might as well use this short spell of creativity I'm having to update this fic!  
> have fun getting your teeth rotten by all this candy cotton stuff

‘So, can I do it today?’ asked Ruby eagerly the next day as soon as the girls have settled down for the lunch break.

‘Do what?’ Tillie inquired with her mouth full of tomato sandwich.

Ruby gave her a deeply disapproving glance.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that we’re supposed to pair up for the dance!’ she expostulated, looking round the other girls in search of an ally. Of the four faces that met her gaze none expressed anything even faintly approaching to her own excitement.

‘I don’t see why any of us should be as agog about it as you,’ observed Jane tersely. ‘We can’t possibly _all_ pair up with Gilbert Blythe, and since you’ve already called dibs on him there’s hardly any sensible boys left for us to choose from.’

‘We don’t yet know whether Gilbert will accept Ruby’s invitation,’ put in Diana slyly.

Everyone looked at her, Tillie and Jane with scepticism, Ruby in wide-eyed terror, and Anne with annoyance.

‘Oh Diana, do you _really_ think he might refuse?’ asked Ruby tearfully. ‘Tell me the truth! Do you know if he’s asked someone else already?’

‘ _I_ don’t know,’ replied Diana significantly.

‘Well, he certainly hasn’t asked _me_ , or you’d have heard all about it the moment you saw me,’ giggled Tillie.

‘I must admit that, though I don’t _particularly_ enjoy boys’ company in general, I would be inclined to make an exception for Gilbert Blythe if had he asked me,’ declared Jane rather grandiloquently. ‘But,’ she added, shrugging her shoulders, ‘he hasn’t.’

Anne, who was occupied in picking at the loose threads of her pinafore, felt the gaze of the other four girls transferred to her own person and lifted her eyes to meet it.

‘You know I can’t even dance,’ she said with a laugh she attempted to make sound dismissive.

‘That wouldn’t stop _some_ people from asking you anyway,’ Diana shot back, undaunted.

‘Yeah, people like Charlie Sloane, perhaps,’ Anne retaliated impatiently, and then, turning to Ruby with a reassuring smile, added, ‘I’m certain Gilbert will gladly accept your offer, Ruby. After all, you’re one of the prettiest, kindest girls around here. Anyone would be lucky to be asked by you.’

Ruby flushed with pleasure at the compliment. At the same moment, the door to the classroom opened and Gilbert, accompanied by Moody Macpherson, came in.

All the girls, except for Anne, sat up straighter as the two boys approached them, each of them looking uncomfortable in his own way. The girls watched them with curiosity they made no attempts at concealing.

As soon as they came to a halt in front of the seated group, Moody blurted out, fairly stumbling over the words,

‘Diana, will you agree to save your first dance for me?’

Blinking slowly, reflectively, Diana watched him for a few seconds blankly. Then, dimpling into her prettiest smile, she answered in a level, ladylike voice,

‘Of course I will, Moody.’

While Moody took a moment to recover from the swoon of relief which threatened to overtake him, Anne allowed her gaze to meet Gilbert’s. He raised his eyebrows, and she narrowed her eyes at him. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards at that, and she rolled her eyes.

‘Gilbert, are you listening?’

To her monumental dismay, Anne realised that this was the voice of Ruby trying to attract Gilbert’s attention. She quickly looked down, praying Diana might somehow have overlooked the exchange between them. _What an utter fool I am_ , she thought _. I’m ridiculous, and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near him in public, and that’s the long and short of it._

‘Gilbert,’ she heard Ruby say in her sweetest manner, ‘will you please be my partner during the first dance of the evening?’

Anne’s heart skipped a beat, and she caught herself in the treacherous, hateful act of hoping he might refuse after all.

‘Sure,’ replied Gilbert easily.

From the corner of her eye, Anne could see Ruby practically glow with the joy his answer brought her.

 

***

 

Anne, eager to repair the damages of a few days before, stayed on after class and made Miss Stacy make her solve whichever equations from the textbook she chose. When she left the schoolhouse she was tired but satisfied with herself, and set home in higher spirits than she had been able to summon since the moment she heard Gilbert accept Ruby’s invitation.

She knew how absurd it was that she was reacting like this to something she herself had been urging him to do, but she simply couldn’t help the dull pain in the pit of her stomach. After all, Ruby had beauty, charm and money. Did she have to have Gilbert too?

_But Ruby **doesn’t** have him_ , Anne reminded herself. _It’s **you** whom he kisses and whom he gave that ribbon to. Can’t you be happy with that while it lasts?_

Yes, but just how much longer _would_ it last? Who knew whether the company an extra-popular belle like Ruby wasn’t going to make Gilbert realise that it was a waste of time to spend it with plain, old, grumpy Anne Shirley?

At the moment when Anne’s broodings reached this depressing pit, two strong arms caught her by the waist from behind. Startled out of her wits in her abstraction, she let out a shriek of terror before her body recognised the familiarity of the one behind her.

‘You idiot!’ she squealed, turning round and giving Gilbert a series of random shoves on the chest while he raised him palms in a gesture of surrender. ‘If you don’t want me around anymore feel free to just tell me, but don’t go scaring me to death!’

‘Hey!’ he protested, arresting her wrists in a firm grasp and looking down at her with a frown. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Your stupid creeping up on people,’ Anne replied irritably, trying to free herself from his hold.

Instead of letting her do that, Gilbert pulled her closer until she had to crane her head back to be able to look with her angry eyes into his dark ones.

‘I don’t creep up on _people_ ,’ he said quietly. ‘Only you.’

‘Only me?’ repeated Anne, who had to physically restrain herself from kissing the line of his jaw, which looked particularly tempting from the angle she was seeing it from now. ‘Are you sure?’

Instead of answering, Gilbert bent down and kissed her rather harder than she was expecting, so that she had to clutch at the front of his coat with both her hands to keep herself from stumbling backwards.

Then he broke off and, a rather sheepish grin painted across his face, asked teasingly,

‘Feel convinced yet, miss Discontented?’

Anne, who hardly knew where she was, nonetheless attempted a contemptuous snort as she let Gilbert wind his fingers through hers and pull her on along the path.

‘Do you happen to have a spare hour or so?’ he asked innocently after a few moment’s silence.

‘What?’ Anne looked up, startled out of her state of pleasantly numb bliss, ‘Why?’

‘I wanted to show you something.’

‘What something?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

Anne, her peace of mind evaporating as quickly as it had been conceived, stopped short and screwed her face up into a frown.

 ‘Gil, let’s make this clear. I’m _not_ going to let you spend any more money on me,’ she said sternly, freeing her hand from his grasp and crossing her arms. ‘Really, once you start you seem to have no idea where to stop.’

Gilbert quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘What makes you think I spent any money at all on this _particular_ something? As a matter of fact, it’s about a skill I wanted to share with you.’

Anne gave him a doubtful look. ‘As in, you’re trying to trick me into another algebra study session? No need for that, Mr Know-It-All,’ she said, smirking a little. ‘I’ve already showed off to Miss Stacy enough today to last me at least a month.’

A sly expression appeared on Gilbert face as he reached out for Anne’s hand to pull her closer. ‘Good, because we’ve no time to waste on algebra right now, with the dance so close, do we?’

The spark died out of Anne’s eyes in an instant. Quickly looking away from him and tugging at his hand to make him resume their walk, she said, striving to keep her voice level, ‘Of course not. I suppose I ought to try to somehow make my old evening dress more presentable, but I get sick just thinking about it.’

‘Then don’t,’ said Gilbert, and when she looked up he met her eyes with a small reassuring smile.

Once again, Anne realised just how hopelessly oblivious Gilbert was in this matter of her not having anything decent to wear and not knowing how to perform the most basic dance steps. Didn’t he realise it was not so much for herself as for _him_ that she wanted to look nice and not behave like someone who’d never been among civilised people before?

The rest of the way passed in silence, and, once they arrived at the gate to Gilbert’s house, she was surprised when, instead of inside, he steered her in the direction of the barn.

‘Are you going to teach me how to shoe a horse, or what?’ asked Anne a bit impatiently. ‘Really, Gil, I’m all in, and--‘

‘God, can’t you stop grumbling for a minute?’

‘ _Excuse me_?’

‘I said,’ chuckling, Gilbert pulled her in for a kiss so quick Anne had a hard time letting him let her go. ‘Stop grumbling and have some faith in me. I’m trying to be all romantical here and stuff, and of course you, the renowned hopeless romantic, must go assuming I’m planning to teach you how to shoe horses. _Really_ , Anne,’ he finished, frowning in mock offence.

Breaking into a somewhat unwilling laugh at the sight of his expression, Anne took his face between her hands and, rising on tiptoe, kissed him sweetly on the lips. ‘ _Really_ , Gil,’ she mimicked, albeit apologetically, ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a crank lately. It’s just that there’s rather a lot happening, and I don’t seem to be able to keep up with it all.’

Gilbert smiled back, but there was concern in his eyes as well as laughter. ‘I think it would make things easier for you if you stopped thinking it’s your responsibility to make yourself miserable so that other people can get what they want.’

Anne rolled her eyes impatiently. ‘Don’t make me sound like a martyr. And anyway,’ she added, eager to put an end to this particular subject, ‘I don’t want to talk about this. Show me your surprise.’

‘See? That’s the spirit,’ laughed Gilbert, leading her past the barn door and on round its corner. ‘Now I’m beginning to be afraid I’ve led you to expect too much and you’ll be disappointed there are no horses here to shoe after all.’

‘This joke stopped being funny the first time we made it,’ said Anne somewhat absent-mindedly.

They had come upon the small, level grass plot between the rear wall of the barn and the trees of the Blythe orchard. There were some wooden crates standing there, and on them was placed what looked like an unconscionable quantity of candles.

Anne stood gazing in mute surprise as Gilbert let go of her hand and went on to light the candles one after another. The day was already drawing to a close, and the in the dimness of the late afternoon the place had a startlingly fairytale-like quality.

When he had finished, Gilbert turned back round towards Anne, smiling but visibly uncertain of the effect his efforts had produced.

‘Can I have this dance, miss?’ he asked with an awkward little laugh, stepping up to her with an outstretched hand.

Still without a word, Anne dropped her satchel to the ground and placed her palm in his. He pulled her close and, smiling down at her with such tenderness her heart skipped a few beats, began to sway them slowly in place.

‘See? It’s not that difficult after all,’ he said quietly.

Anne, feeling like she might burst out crying with happiness and make an utter idiot of herself if she let him look at her like that a moment more, pressed herself a little closer and, resting her chin on his shoulder, whispered,

‘Not with you here like this.’

Gilbert's hold on her waist tightened a little, and then, swiftly, he spun her out and around and the back into his arms again. They both began laughing, breathlessly.

‘We’re going be the queen and king of the dance floor, you’ll see,’ he chuckled into her hair. And then, his voice getting serious again, he added quietly, ‘Anne, you know that dance with Ruby doesn’t mean anything to me.’

‘I know.’

‘But you were upset when she asked me. You’re still upset.’

‘I’m upset with myself for being a silly goose,’ she replied, trying to sound dismissive. ‘And anyway,’ she added with an attempt at archness, ‘it’s _you_ who’ll have something to be upset about once you find out I ran away with Charlie Sloane after he’s turned out to be an unexpectedly amazing dance partner.’

‘Charlie Sloane?’ repeated Gilbert, frowning a little. ‘Why, has he actually asked you for the first dance?’

‘He wouldn’t take no for an answer,’ replied Anne with a sigh. ‘And I thought it might be a good way of putting him off liking me--‘

‘ _Liking_ you?’

‘Yeah. . .’ Anne, wrapped up in the vision of the gloomy future, failed to perceive the jarring note in Gilbert’s voice. ‘You know, I highly doubt he’ll get much pleasure out of dancing with me, dressed like a poor relative and probably dying of embarrassment at my own clumsiness.’

At that, Gilbert gave her such an odd look she felt like she had said something extremely stupid.

‘What?’ she asked, laughing nervously.

‘Nothing,’ he replied quickly, pulling her closer. ‘Let’s not talk about it anymore right now, okay?’

‘Don’t talk then. Kiss me.’

And he did, but the uneasiness whose presence they were both unwilling to admit remained.


	13. oh, the heart it hides such unimaginable things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while, but I'm back!  
> enjoy! (hopefully)

To her inner dismay, Anne spent the whole of next day’s classes in the depths of what she considered to be one of the emotions most degrading to those who stooped to feel it – jealousy.

As soon as Gilbert walked into the classroom, Ruby sprang up from her seat behind Anne and skipped up to him holding something in her outstretched hand.

It turned out to be a tie the exact colour of her dress.

‘It’s extremely kind of you, Ruby, but I can’t accept this,’ Gilbert said, firmly but kindly.

‘Why not?’ queried Ruby, making an unhappy face. ‘You _must,_ Gilbert. Please. We _have_ to wear matching colours.’

‘Ruby, I appreciate your intentions, but you have to understand that—‘

‘Oh, _please_ ,’ Ruby was actually beginning to sniff. She turned around, and Anne, whose eyes were fixed on the back of her head, was not in time to avert them. ‘Anne, tell him he has to accept it! He’ll listen to _you_!’

Gilbert’s eyes snapped to Anne’s. She returned his gaze levelly.

‘Of course he’ll accept it,’ she said with deliberation. ‘Come on, Gilbert, it’s just a tie. Don’t fuss.’

‘Exactly! Don’t fuss!’ Ruby took up eagerly, pressing the tie into his unwilling hands.

‘All right,’ said Gilbert slowly, his gaze still fixed on Anne’s face. ‘Thank you, Ruby.’

Anne rolled her eyes and turned away, pretending to busy herself with her handbooks. Gilbert proceeded to his own seat, and Ruby, beaming, returned to hers.

‘You’re going to be a _most handsome_ pair,’ Anne heard Tillie remark gushingly. ‘Gilbert so dark and tall and you a golden-haired china doll!’

‘Oh my, yes!’ replied Ruby with a contented sigh. ‘I _knew_ I could get him to accept it.’

‘Everyone will know he’s _yours_ now.’

‘Oh my, _yes_!’

Anne knew that Gilbert was looking at her, waiting for a sign that everything was all right, but she obstinately kept her eyes down.

She felt rotten.

 

***

 

During lunch break, Anne kept obstinately out of the girls’ discussion of the dresses they were going to wear. The dance was now only two days away, and the thought of her own old, worn, too-tight dress was beginning to weigh on her mind with a persistency that was almost nauseating.

From the tail of her eye, she saw Moody McPherson approach the spot where she was sitting bent over her English literature handbook.

‘Hi,’ he said, stopping awkwardly right beside her.

Summoning a smile, Anne looked up. ‘Hi, Moody.’

His next move took her by complete surprise.

‘Here, take this,’ he whispered urgently, looking furtively round.

And, before Anne could summon the presence of mind to ask him what he was doing, he went away.

She looked down at the crumpled scrap of paper he had pushed into her hand.

_Come to the tool shed behind the schoolhouse. Quick._

The writing was Gilbert’s.

 

***

 

The door opened with a squeak of the hinges. Before Anne had time to close it, Gilbert’s hands were cupping her face and he was kissing her rather fiercely.

‘Mmmph,’ she gasped, melting into him. ‘You idiot— the door—‘

He reached out to close the door, his lips still against hers. Anne, whose knees by now felt like jelly, simply could not keep herself from kissing him back.

Then, a sudden thought brought her back to reality with a jolt. She pushed him away enough to look him in the face.

‘You told _Moody_?’ she asked hoarsely. ‘ _Really_ , Gil?’

He grinned. ‘Easy. Moody’s the soul of honour. He’d never gossip.’

Anne knew this was true, but to admit it would be a defeat.

‘Oh, _really_?’ she jeered, taking a step away a crossing her arms on her chest. ‘Then maybe let’s just go and tell everybody! Then there’ll be no danger of gossip!’

‘All right, let’s go,’ Gilbert countered promptly.

Anne frowned exasperatedly, pursing up her lips.

‘You know we _can’t_. It would break—‘

‘Ruby’s heart, I know,’ he supplied with an impatient sigh. ‘But I’d rather break hers than yours.’

‘I’d rather you didn’t break _anybody’s_. And, ’ Anne added quickly, suddenly feeling the need not to let Gilbert know how much she actually cared, ‘I hope I haven’t yet gotten to be such a besotted fool as to break my heart over a boy, not even,’ with a sneer, ‘the renowned Gilbert Blythe. Ruby – _anybody_ – is welcome to give you _any number_ of presents. It’s none of my business. It’s not like we’re one another’s property.’

‘Anne, wait,’ Gilbert caught at her sleeve as she begun to turn towards the door. She looked up at him with a frown. His face was drawn, his eyes anxious. ‘This isn’t—you’ve got it all wrong. I never meant to imply that you’re—that you’re the kind to— that you’re like—‘

‘That I’m not like the other girls?’ Anne supplied in a steely voice, making him flinch. ‘Trust me, you’d be mistaken believe that. I’m _just like_ them all right. Except we’re _not_ what _you_ believe we are. Ruby’s a silly little goose, I admit, and so’s Tillie, but the rest of us – me, Diana, Jane – are as level-headed as any boy. You don’t have to worry about me crying my eyes out because you’re going to play prince charming to Ruby’s princess. I couldn’t care less, honestly.’

Somehow, this blatant lie came out sounding so harsh and _true_ that Anne felt disgusted at how duplicitous she was becoming.

Gilbert was by now looking palpably upset. He let go of her sleeve and took a step back, his jaw set squarely.

‘I see,’ he said with a terrible kind of quiet calm. ‘I won’t _importune_ you any more, then. I’m sorry that I’ve—assumed wrong. I didn’t mean to make you angry.’

Anne wished desperately to just be able to throw her arms around his neck and bury her face in his chest and never let him go again. But her sudden fear – the realisation that she had let her guard down too completely, allowing Gilbert to see that she was literally ready to chuck everything and follow him barefoot to the ends of the earth if he wished it (which, she realised, was a terribly cliché and downright _stupid_ way to feel, but she just couldn’t help it) – made her reach for the handle and hurl herself out of the shed before she had time to do or say anything more she might come regret in the long run, once he had moved on from his infatuation with her.

Back in the schoolhouse, she was greeted by an inquisitive look from Diana.

‘What’s happened to you? Are you ill? You look—weird.’

‘You _keep_ saying that. I’m fine. I’ve a headache.’

Diana looked skeptical, but said nothing. A few moments later, Gilbert entered the room. Anne saw him in the periphery of her field of vision walk straight to his desk and promptly open up a book.

‘Gilbert seems out of sorts as well,’ said Diana.

Anne was expecting a remark to that exact effect, and was therefore able to preserve an impassive silence.

‘He doesn’t seem to enjoy the prospect of going to the party with Ruby as much as she does, poor dear. She’s counting on getting him to start courting her as soon as he’s out of school.’

‘He won’t be out of school for _years_ ,’ Anne said heatedly in spite of her resolution to refrain from comment. ‘Does she even realise how long it takes to become a doctor? He’s got about ten more years of school and a practice to obtain before he can even _think_ of marrying. If she’s prepared to wait all that time only to have him snapped up from before her very nose by some chic, raven-haired Kingsport belle then she’s a bigger fool than I thought!’

Aware that she’d spoken rather louder than it was necessary to in the comparative silence of the half-empty schoolroom, Anne prayed that Gilbert really _was_ reading the book in front of him and was consequently too engrossed to overhear her.

She turned towards the bewildered Diana.

‘What?’ she snapped, frowning.

‘Nothing. I’m just surprised you can be so bitter.’

‘I’m not bitter. I’m _reasonable_. It’s absolutely no use going silly over a boy. I don’t believe in all this nonsense about courting, anyway.’

Diana was by now openly staring. Anne, aware that she had said far too much, was glad that just at that moment the rest of the girls tumbled, giggling, into the classroom, thus drawing her friend’s attention away from herself.

 _Why_ was she behaving like this? Why did she have to keep feeling those incomprehensible things? It was simply insufferable. When Tennyson said it was better to have loved and lost than not have loved at all he had no idea what he was talking about. But then, obviously, he was a man. 

Behind her, Anne could hear the girls again start to twitter about the party. Suppressing a groan, she leaned her forehead on her hands and closed her eyes.

 

***

 

Gilbert sprang up from his seat and left the classroom as soon as Miss Stacy dismissed them, and although Anne tried to convince herself she was glad in reality she felt like crawling into a hole and never coming out.

When she parted from Diana at the crossroads and proceeded down the path to Green Gables, she decided she had forced herself to act sane long enough for one day and might therefore now indulge in a little crying.

The tears, however, would not come.

Marilla greeted her in a way ill calculated to help her regain equilibrium.

‘Heavens, child, don’t you look like something the cat’s dragged in,’ she said, narrowing her eyes at the frowning girl. ‘What on earth is the matter?’

This was too much.

‘Thank you, Marilla!’ Anne exploded, fairly throwing her satchel onto the table. ‘It’s not like I already _know_ that I’m a frump and an eyesore! I must also have it rubbed in as soon as I set foot in my own house! Ugh!’

She was about to stomp her way up the stairs, but Marilla prevented her by calling out,

‘Is Gilbert coming over today?’

Anne clutched at the banister.

‘Why should he be?’ she asked in an unnaturally high-pitched voice.

‘Why?’ repeated Marilla sarcastically. ‘Perhaps because he always is.’

‘Exactly! High time he tried living at his own house for a change!’

Marilla stared.

‘Have you two quarreled?’ she asked eventually, sounding a little apprehensive of the answer she might get.

‘We are not close enough to each other to have anything a serious as a quarrel happen to us,’ declared Anne haughtily. ‘We are sometimes _forced_ to study together. That does not mean there is _anything_ —‘

‘All right, all right, child, don’t get upset!’ interrupted Marilla, taken aback by Anne’s heated reaction. ‘I only asked because—there is something—I mean, I have something for you. A gift.’

Anne stared.

‘A gift? What is it?’ she repeated, her mind only half on what she said, the other half occupied in beating her up for her irrational outburst on the subject of Gilbert Blythe. _Another_ outburst.

‘Something that may improve your mood, Miss Contrary,’ said Marilla, with a terse smile, shooing Anne up the stairs. She was deeply troubled by the way Anne had spoken about Gilbert: it indicated beyond doubt that something was very much not right between the two of them and this, in view of the fact that she was about to present Anne with an expensive gift for which the boy had paid, made her feel genuinely uncomfortable.

However, whatever Anne may have conjured up to be angry with Gilbert about, Marilla was sure that _he_ was not likely to want to break with her because she chose to stuck her nose up in the air at him; it was a lamentable trait to be sure, this Gilbert’s propensity for forgiving Anne all her irrationalities, but it came in handy at moments like the present one.

Marilla ushered Anne into her bedroom. Upon the bed, there lay a big brown cardboard box.

‘What is it?’ Anne asked rather tremulously, feeling very penitent for having been so rude towards Marilla mere moments ago. ‘Dearest Marilla, what _is_ it? I don’t deserve it, _whatever_ it is!’

She threw her arms impulsively around the older woman’s neck, laughing and crying at the same time.

‘Heavens, child!’ chuckled Marilla, patting her awkwardly on the back. ‘Calm yourself. Whether you deserve it or not, it’s here and paid for, and I don’t think it can well be returned.’

This made Anne giggle madly. She let Marilla go – to the latter’s relief – and proceeded towards the box.

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. She would _not_ let herself expect that it was a new dress. It looked like it might be – but there was no way Marilla could have had money enough to spare on something that expensive.

With trembling hands, she lifted the lid.

Within, there were folds of shimmering fabric of the most beautiful colour Anne had ever seen. She reached out her fingers to touch it, but then withdrew them as though she had burnt herself.

‘Oh, Marilla!’ she cried, sounding grotesquely horrified. ‘You shouldn’t have—this—this must have cost a fortune—I couldn’t possibly—‘

Well, thought Marilla, this was only to be expected.

‘Hush, you silly girl. If it is here, you will accept it, and be grateful for it.’

‘But, Marilla,’ Anne said on a sob, having finally started crying. ‘I could _never_ forgive myself for taking so much of your money! We’ve been economising so hard to save for the mending of the roof—Marilla, please don’t make me accept this! I can’t! I would despise myself _forever_!’

At this, Marilla actually groaned, which unprecedented sound succeeded in stemming Anne’s flood of protestations.

‘I _knew_ it was a bad idea!’ she said with an angry shake of the head. ‘For God’s sake, stop raving, child. _I_ didn’t pay for this dress.’

‘You . . . didn’t?’ stammered Anne. ‘Who did, then?’

‘Someone else. A friend.’

‘Whose friend? Yours?’ Anne, visited by the incredible vision of Mrs Lynde playing fairy godmother, asked gapingly.

‘Not really, I can’t in truth call . . . that person _my_ friend,’ replied Marilla, unable to tell an outright lie.

‘Then _who_?’

‘I shan’t tell you.’

‘Marilla, it’s—‘

Anne stopped, suddenly struck dumb by the remembrance of a conversation she’d had with Gilbert a few days ago, when he’d asked her whether she liked—whether she thought the colour turquoise was pretty. . . The dress _was_ turquoise. . .

‘Anne, are you ill?’ asked Marilla, a little frightened by the girl’s sudden pallor. ‘What is it _now_?’

Anne’s eyes, enormous and glistening in her trembling face, met hers.

‘Is this dress from Gilbert?’ she asked in a hollow voice, bringing each word out with difficulty.

Marilla’s heart actually sank in her breast.

‘Anne—‘

‘Please answer me, Marilla,’ Anne pleaded, approaching the other woman slowly, with the look of a sleepwalker on her face. ‘Was this dress paid for by him, or wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, it _was_. Will you calm yourself now? Child, you’re frightening me!’ For Anne was by now crying even harder. ‘This is a reaction out of all proportion to the situation, even for you. Can’t you just be glad he was so good as to—‘

‘ _Good_! Of course he is good—‘ Anne suddenly stood up straight, her eyes flashing like steel. ‘I’ll go thank him for his goodness right away, if you don’t mind!’

‘No! Anne, wait! _I said wait_!’

Anne, however, was already throwing on her coat, and by the time Marilla, who was in no state to walk down the stairs in any but a slow, cautious way, had reached the front door, she was already well beyond the gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it can't be all rainbows and butterflies, can it?  
> I realise Anne's reaction a bit excessive (and so does SHE), but she's a teenage girl and has every right to come a little unhinged now and again, hasn't she? :D


	14. tell me you love me more than hate me all the time // and you’re still mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay, so basically I had this chapter practically finished when my computer randomly decided to eat it up. . . 
> 
> so that I had to begin all over again, and this is an imperfect reproduction of that vanished original version, and I'm not entirely pleased with it, but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same I guess!

Anne began by dashing across the meadow towards the back of Gilbert’s house, but the chill autumn wind was in her face and she was soon forced to slow down to a quick-paced walk.

Involuntarily, she was beginning to cool down a little bit mentally as well, and was asking herself whether it would not be after all more graceful to simply accept that dress – and it must be lovely, though she had only seen it a glimpse of it all folded up – when there came to her ears the sound of wood-chopping, issuing from the shed at the outskirts of the Blythe property.

Damn gracefulness! Damn Gilbert Blythe and his accursed goodness! There he was, working, working, _working_ from dawn till evening, forever either studying, or helping Dr Ward in his Charlottetown surgery, or doing chores around the farm – he’d told her himself he preferred to attend to whatever was too much for Bash himself rather than pay for hired help. All the money he managed to put by was to go towards his education. His future. His _dreams_.

And yet there he was, squandering God knew what exorbitant sums – for Anne knew that to him, as to her, anything over a few dollars _was_ a lot – on something as unnecessary and frivolous and _stupid_ as a dress for her, Anne Shirley, whom no amount of finery could do anything to make look presentable _anyway_!

She threw the door of the shed open, the fire within her burning high with fresh fuel.

‘Anne? What’s happened? Is someone ill?’

‘You idiot!’ she hissed, coming up close to where he stood bewildered by her abrupt entrance. ‘How _could_ you?’

‘Anne, I don’t understand what you are—‘

Anne gave a shrill laugh that made him wince. ‘Don’t try and fool me! Marilla’s told me everything! You should have remembered that _other people_ actually mind about lying!’

She saw comprehension dawn in Gilbert’s face and make his expression harden into angry annoyance. ‘ _Other_ people?’ he repeated with a slight sneer. ‘As in, other than me _and_ you?’

Anne scowled. ‘This isn’t about _me_ —‘

‘Isn’t it? _Isn’t it, Anne_?’ he demanded. ‘Isn’t it _you_ who’s fuming all over because you’re above accepting a gift from me?’

‘It’s not that, you idiot—it’s just that I’m _furious_ —‘

‘So I’ve noticed.’

His cool manner made Anne want to hit him. Stomping her foot and feeling terribly childish, she cried, ‘You fool! Why _do you_ think I’m furious? Because you’ve been spending money that you’re working yourself out to save on something _utterly unimportant_ —‘

‘How _is_ it unimportant?’ he cut in savagely. ‘You’ve been miserable for _days_ over not having anything to wear to that idiotic party!’

‘Don’t you see that I can’t _possibly_ —‘

‘It’s not the dress or the money that is the problem, it’s the fact that it comes from _me_ , isn’t it?’ he asked incisively. Anne shook her head in protest but, disregarding the gesture, he went on, ‘What _are_ you afraid of? Do you think I’m going to hold that stupid dress over your head to make you feel like you owe something to me? To force you to—‘ he paused a second, frowning, hesitating, ‘to—to promise to wait for me? Don’t worry, I’m not going to. I’d have to be a fool to ask that of anyone – least of all _you_.’

The tone in which that “you” had been uttered, hard and so terribly cold, was the last straw to Anne. The tears she had been holding back from the moment he’d begun speaking slid silently down her cheeks.

A shadow of remorse crossed Gilbert’s face, but he stood his ground firmly, his arms folded across his chest.

‘ _Your_ words, not mine, Anne. And you made sure I heard them, too.’

‘I never meant them like that!’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘It wasn’t—it isn’t of _myself_ that I was thinking – even though, since you think me such an egotist, that may be difficult for you to believe! It is because I don’t want to make things awkward and unpleasant for _you_ that—’

Gilbert raised his eyebrows skeptically. ‘Unpleasant for _me_?’ he repeated, interrupting her blundering torrent of words.

‘Yes, you!’ Anne took a step forward and stabbed him in the chest with an accusatory forefinger. ‘Because, if you’d only take time to face it, you’re going to meet _dozens_ of beautiful girls at Queen’s, to say nothing of Kingsport! And then you’re going to want to break with me—‘ the event, even while it remained in the sphere of supposition, was so terrible that Anne began to cry a little harder, ‘You’re going to want to break with me, and it’s going to spoil everything, and we won’t ever be able to go back to being just friends, and—‘

‘So you think we _can_ we go back to being “just friends” now?’

The tone in which Gilbert spoke was unexpectedly quiet after all the yelling they had done heretofore, and it made Anne stare up at him in dumb, shocked surprise.

 ‘I—I don’t _know_ ,‘ she replied eventually with an indignant sob. ‘I just don’t—I don’t want to _lose_ you.’

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, her eyes flashing and his, Anne thought with a painful squeeze of the heart, suddenly rather darker and somehow softer.

‘Lose me to all those ravishing raven-haired belles of which you spoke this morning, you mean?’

He spoke with mock-seriousness which, although certainly better than his earlier sternness, made Anne flare up once again.

‘Ugh! I hate you! You can take _nothing_ seriously!’ she cried furiously, finally giving in to the urge to shove him on the arm. ‘You—‘

She stopped, for Gilbert’s fingers closed round the wrist of her outstretched hand and he pulled her closer, so close indeed that she had to tilt her head back to be able to look him in the eyes – eyes in the corners of which, by now, an incipient smile was just starting to show.

‘What are you _grinning_ about, you idiot?’ Anne asked, beginning to laugh herself, albeit somewhat hysterically. ‘You’ve run out of arguments, haven’t you? You have to admit that the possibility that someone much more suitable than myself is going to— _mmmph_!’

Gilbert crashed her lips to hers with such suddenness she fairly staggered backwards and was glad to find that his arm was already firm around her waist. There was some kind of desperate need in his kiss which had never been there before, and there was their anger with each other mixed in it too, so that altogether it was an extremely breathless, flushed pair that separated a few moments later.

‘Run out of arguments, huh?’ Gilbert asked in a hoarse whisper, his lips against her ear. ‘Was this one convincing enough? Or do you want me to _restate_ it?’

Anne was momentarily speechless and also rather excitingly aware of the heat which Gilbert’s body emitted through his old worn-out shirt. Also, absurdly, his smell made her feel giddy in the most amazing way: it was so incredibly raw and intimate and _Gilbert_.

‘Are you there, Anne?’ he asked with an awkward chuckle, confused by her prolonged silence. ‘If you’re planning to go to sleep, let’s at least sit down. I’m not convinced this is the most comfortable position, however tempting it might be to remain in it,’ he added teasingly.

Instantly, Anne was bolt upright and glaring.

‘Not comfortable, are you?’ she snapped, her hands going up to her dishevelled hair. ‘ _Poor you_. Maybe it would be a good idea then to—to—‘ she was going to say something about how he shouldn’t go around kissing people into oblivion, but caught herself up in time.

‘To?’ Gilbert prompted, frowning funnily.

‘To—to actually listen to me when I _do_ talk,’ she finished clumsily. ‘Gilbert, I really—‘

‘Mary’s going to be heartbroken if you don’t wear that dress. She’s spent three nights on it.’

Anne stared.

‘Mary?’ she repeated in an undignified kind of shrill croak. ‘ _Mary_ ’s made that dress?’

‘Yeah.’

To Gilbert’s infinite dismay and confusion, tears started rolling down the freckled cheeks with renewed speed.

‘Anne, you silly goose, stop it,’ he urged quickly, putting his hands up to her cheeks and brushing the wet stains away gently. He smiled tentatively into her eyes, and her response was increased sobbing.

‘I’m sorry, Gil,’ she blurted out. ‘I’m _such_ an ungrateful little brat. I’m the _worst_ —‘

‘Hey!’ he interrupted with an awkward little laugh. ‘If you keep on like this, I’m going to have to kiss you again.’

‘No, you’re _not_ ,’ Anne countered quickly, slipping out of his grasp. An unwilling smile tugged at the corners of her lips. ‘I don’t have the energy to recover again.’

Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up. ‘ _Recover_? You mean, I was too—I mean, I’m sorry if I—’ he faltered, looking almost comically flurried.

Anne narrowed her eyes at him, and then burst out laughing. He made an offended face.

‘ _Not_ funny,’ he grumbled, pulling her close once again. ‘I might have actually taken it to heart, and then you’d get nothing but chaste kisses on the forehead from now on—‘

The fact that such an idea was indeed absurd made Anne giggle delightfully as she reached up to kiss him softly on the lips.

‘You _will_ wear it, then?’ he asked hopefully as she pulled away.

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘But the main point has not been settled at all, Gil. It’s that you’re not supposed to spend money that you save towards the fulfillment of your dreams—‘

‘You _are_ my dream. And I want you to be happy.’

Anne was almost afraid to reply for fear it would turn out to have been a mishearing on her side. But something in Gilbert’s earnest, intense eyes made her certain it _was_ true, and she said quietly,

‘But I _am_ happy. Just being with you. I don’t need expensive presents. I don’t _want_ them. What I want is for you to,’ she looked up with a half shy, half hopeful smile, ‘—for you to get through with that business of becoming a doctor as – let’s say as _promptly_ as you can.’

Gilbert grinned. ‘Do you?’

‘ _Yes_ ,’ she said with emphasis, frowning playfully. ‘In ten years’ time I’ll be twenty-seven. That’s _practically_ middle-aged. We don’t need to make it _thirty_ -seven only because it’s your fancy to squander money on ungrateful me.’

He bent down to kiss her, but she ducked her head.

‘Promise you won’t buy me anything else ever again,’ she said stubbornly, holding herself away from him. ‘Not until you’re a professional doctor with a thriving, well-paying practice.’

Gilbert rolled his eyes.

‘ _Promise_.’

‘All _right_ ,’ he said with a martyred sigh. ‘But,’ he added with a smirk, ‘provided you will accept _and_ wear that dress. Mary would never forgive you, you know.’

‘This, Mr Blythe, is emotional blackmail—‘

‘It’s common sense. We can’t possibly _unsew_ that dress and sell the fabric back. Hence, if you refuse to wear it, they money I’ve _slaved_ for will be utterly, _irretrievably_ thrown away, and Mary’s work will be wasted as well—‘

‘Oh, shut up already!’

‘Make me.’

And she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rainbows and butterflies, huh?
> 
> but if you think it's going to be smooth sailing from now on until the end, think again. . . :D


	15. what I like about you, baby, is that you annoy me daily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> looks like I have been visited by that extremely elusive goddess, inspiration :D

‘Anne, do you know it’s your fault that I have to wait so long before Gilbert finishes school and begins courting me?’

Anne stared at Ruby with a disbelief she was unable to hide. It was difficult to say which part of the statement was the more nonsensical, the unfounded accusation of herself or Ruby’s unruffled assumption that her courtship with Gilbert was only a matter of time.

‘ _My fault_?’ she queried eventually, trying to sound merely objectively interested.

‘Yes. It’s because of you he decided not to graduate early when he had the chance, two years ago. Everyone knows that.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense, Ruby,’ huffed Diana, casting a surreptitious glance at Anne’s bewildered face. ‘ _I_ , for one, know nothing of the kind. He decided not to accelerate his studies because his family needed him on the farm. _That’s_ what everyone knows.’

Ruby made a face. ‘ _That_ was merely the os-os— os-something reason.’

‘You mean ostensible?’ suggested Anne with thinly veiled sarcasm. All this sounded very much like a Josie-Pye-supplied piece of information.

‘Yes,’ Ruby nodded importantly. ‘Helping on the farm was his _ostensible_ reason. But everyone knows he liked Anne _at the time_ , and what he really wanted was to remain at school so that he could,’ she brought the words out with visible dislike of their import ‘stay close to her. Of course, _that_ stopped being true long ago, but he didn’t want to make a fuss and decided to stay on and graduate at the regular pace.’

‘Ruby, this is the silliest story I’ve heard in a while,’ said Diana soberly. ‘Do you really have nothing better to do than let Josie Pye bamboozle you into believing things she makes up to spite other people?’

Ruby looked offended. ‘It’s just that—‘

‘It’s just that you know that Gilbert,’ Diana paused a second, ‘ _once_ liked Anne, and you want to convince yourself he no longer does. Okay, you’ve made your point. We get it. But for heaven’s sake, don’t go spreading such _idiotic_ gossip. This is really below you, Ruby.’

Ruby’s reply was an indignant huff and a majestic departure.

Diana turned towards Anne.

‘This girl has a real problem. I used to think she’d get over it once she realises Gilbert has no interest in her whatsoever, but with Josie’s and Tillie’s help she seems to have gotten to such a pitch of delusion she’s blind to everything but her own imaginings.’

‘Yes,’ replied Anne absently. ‘Yes, it does seem so.’

‘It’s so ridiculous that even though she’s watching Gilbert all the time she can remain oblivious to the fact that he’s obviously courting another girl.’

‘Yes—Wait, _what_?’

Diana gave her a wide, Cheshire-cat smile.

‘Got you!’ she said with a giggle. ‘Did you really believe you could keep something like that from me forever?’

Anne felt like her face was on fire. ‘Something like _what_?’ she asked weakly, trying and failing to sound uncomprehending.

‘Something like a terrifically romantical love affair.’

‘Diana, you are making a wild, ridiculous mistake—‘

‘Moody’s told me.’

Anne gaped. ‘ _Who did_ _what_?’

‘Come on, Anne,’ Diana’s eyes were sparkling with amusement. ‘You know I can get Moody to do anything I want. So I got him to tell me all he knows about you and Gilbert.’

‘This is a very Josie Pye thing to have done,’ countered Anne angrily. ‘And Moody’s in for a sock on the eye. And Gil is—‘

‘Yes? What about _Gil_? What is _he_ in for?’

Anne cast her a glance that was a mixture between a plea for mercy and a threat.

‘Diana, this is really, really _not_ funny. Not funny _at all_.’

‘Not _funny_?’ repeated Diana, dimpling with delight at the fact that Anne had ceased to pretend she didn’t know what they were talking about. ‘Anne, it’s perfectly splendid! Finally, you two have managed to come to an understanding—‘

‘There’s _no_ understanding!’ interrupted Anne sternly. Annoyance at the fact that their secret had stopped being secret was getting the better of her initial embarrassment, and yet it was a kind of relief too to be able finally to talk to someone else than her own self about the whole tangled affair.

‘What I mean,’ Diana was still undaunted in her enthusiasm, ‘is that it’s simply great you have finally begun courting! But why—‘

‘We haven’t. I mean, begun courting.’

Diana’s eyebrows shot up. Anne returned her surprised stare with a straightforward, albeit still blushing, one of her own.

‘ _Not_ courting?’

‘No.’

‘Then what exactly _is_ whatever it is you two are doing called?’

‘It’s not called _anything_ ,’ said Anne, rolling her eyes. ‘It’s just me and him being—‘

‘In love?’ suggested Diana with a fresh access of giggles.

‘No!’ Anne denied quickly, her stomach suddenly tying itself into a tight knot. ‘It’s not anything as serious as that. I don’t—I’m not foolish enough to believe he could possibly be in love with me.’

It was Diana’s turn to stare in disbelief, and she did it very thoroughly. ‘Anne, are you blind?’ she asked eventually. ‘Because anyone with two reasonably good eyes in their head can—‘

‘Oh, leave it be, Diana,’ Anne interrupted impatiently. ‘I know what you’re going to say, but it’s just your point of view, nobody else’s. You’ve heard Ruby. According to her—‘

‘According to Josie Pye,’ amended Diana.

‘Never mind. The point is that you see what you want to see, and the truth may be totally different.’

‘Does it feel like the truth is totally different when you’re together?’

Anne blinked slowly, startled by the aptness of the question.

‘No,’ she replied eventually, blushing at the way her simple answer made Diana beam. ‘I—I don’t know, Diana, I simply _don’t know_. I know that I care for him more – more than for anyone in the world, I’m afraid.’

‘Afraid?’ Diana repeated with a laugh. ‘Why _afraid_? Isn’t that what true love is all about?’

Anne looked down at the dusty floor, a lump in her throat.

‘I don’t know, I tell you.’

‘But—‘

The bell sounded, summoning them to the afternoon classes.

Anne caught feverishly at Diana’s sleeve.

‘Di, swear you’ll not let on by so much as a word what you know. _Please_.’

‘All right, but I don’t—‘

‘I’ll explain later,’ Anne cut her off, getting up. ‘Come on. Time for class.’

Shaking her head, Diana followed her friend into the classroom.

 

***

 

When school was dismissed for the day, Gilbert was confronted with a radiant Diana and a glum Anne.

‘A long day, eh?’ he inquired in a casual tone as they set out on their way home.

‘Yes,’ chirped Diana with a significant look at Anne. ‘Long _but_ fruitful.’

Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up.

‘She _knows_ ,’ Anne told him shortly with a shrug.

Before he could react, Diana burst out laughing. ‘Really, Gilbert, are you sure you have not actually coerced her into admitting she likes you? She’s behaving as though she was being actively tortured.’

‘I’m not sure myself, sometimes,’ Gilbert rejoined with a grin in Anne’s direction, but there was a slight uneasiness in his eyes.

‘Not sure _indeed_ ,’ put in Anne sarcastically. ‘You practically incapacitated me with a knock on the skull and then—‘ she remembered what happened _then_ and stopped short, her cheeks pink. ‘Anyway,’ she went on irritably, ‘it’s all _your_ fault the secret’s out. As you can see, Moody may be the soul of honour, but even he is not immune to the insidious feminine charms of Diana Barry.’

‘Stop making it out to be a mass scale tragedy,’ Diana interrupted soberly. ‘No one else will ever think of seeking gossip from Moody, not even Josie. And anyway, I simply fail to understand where all this hole and corner business is coming from in the first place. Are you afraid Marilla might not approve of courtship before you’re out of school?’

‘Marilla?’ asked Anne, who had never actually considered that particular aspect of the situation.

‘Well, you _have_ to ask her. I mean, Gilbert has,’ said Diana pointedly.

Gilbert’s ears got rather red, and Anne recognised the familiar tensing up of his face which meant that he was trying to keep himself from saying something he might regret.

‘I’ve asked Gilbert not to let anyone know about,’ she stuttered slightly, ‘us yet. Not until – until the dance is over.’

Diana frowned. ‘But _why_? Of course, you’re both rather young to begin courting, but you’re not going to be much older in three days’ time, are you?’

‘It’s not that,’ Anne replied quickly, wishing to cover up Gilbert’s grim silence. ‘It’s that I don’t want to spoil it all for Ruby more than I can help.’

‘Ruby?’ Diana made a wry face. ‘Well, but she’ll have to know all the same, won’t she?’

‘Not if Anne breaks up with me soon enough,’ put in Gilbert jokingly.

Anne felt unable to meet his gaze.

Diana, looking from one of them to the other, said slowly, ‘Well, _I_ think all this is a very stupid idea. But I suppose _you_ know what you are doing. You’re _supposed_ to be the two brightest students in this town, after all,’ she finished in a tone indicating her doubts as to the validity of such a state of affairs.

They had by now come to the place where their paths divided and, stopping, she added, ‘This is where I leave you, silly children. Anne, a word on the side.’

Without sparing Gilbert a look, Anne followed Diana a few steps along the path towards the latter’s house.

‘Anne Shirley,’ said Diana firmly, stopping and looking her straight in the eye. ‘Shall I tell you my conclusions?’

Anne gave a dismissive snort. ‘From a five minutes’ conversation?’

‘A word is enough to the wise,’ proclaimed Diana serenely. ‘Or a look to the observant. Shall I?’

Another snort. ‘If it gives you pleasure.’

‘It does indeed. Because it is my belief that Gilbert Blythe is lovesick over you. I mean, he’s been _that_ long enough. But now he’s so more than ever because he’s convinced that you do not care for him the way he does for you.’

Anne stared. ‘Where on earth does that come from?’

‘From the way he looked when you seemed not to consider telling Marilla about you two being together to be something that will have to take place in the near future. And from the way he spoke when I suggested Ruby must be told sometime—‘

‘He was _joking_ ,’ Anne pointed out exasperatedly.

‘If you’d spared him a look, you would have seen he was joking with the expression of a man about to be guillotined.’

‘Diana,’ said Anne slowly, emphatically. ‘I assure you Gilbert _knows_ I care about him. I’ve let him know that often enough.’

‘Did you tell him so in so many words?’ queried Diana mercilessly.

‘ _Of course_ not!’

‘Well, you should then. That’s the only way men understand.’

‘Look at you, being all knowledgeable about these things!’ sneered Anne half-heartedly. In reality, Diana’s words had made her feel awful.

‘Think whatever you please. But I think – I _know_ – that Gilbert has been in love with you for the past three years. You don’t have to worry about him suddenly stopping.’

‘How do you—‘

‘How do I know that’s what’s holding you back?’ Diana asked with a pert smile. ‘I know you a little by now, Anne.’ Speaking more seriously, she added, ‘I know what you’ve been through. But there’s no need to look for tragedies where there aren’t and never will be any.’

Anne frowned, but could not deny the appositeness of the observation.

‘Well, let’s not keep the poor prince charming waiting any longer,’ remarked Diana cheerfully after a few seconds’ silence. ‘Just try not to make it so difficult on both yourself and him. See you tomorrow.’

‘Di, wait!’ Anne said sharply as the other girl began to turn away. Impulsively, she threw her arms around her friend’s neck.

‘You are my very favorite person,’ she said in a strained voice.

‘ _Very_ favorite?’ Diana asked with a giggle.

‘Second favorite, then.’

‘I’ll take that,’ said Diana airily, disentangling herself from Anne’s hold. ‘Provided you let _him_ know it. I dislike watching people tormenting each other unnecessarily.’

And with a final wave, she walked down the path.

 

***

 

‘Diana is a very nice girl, isn’t she?’ asked Gilbert after they had walked for a few moments in rather strained silence.

‘You’ve known her since childhood, and you’ve only noticed that today?’ asked Anne somewhat absent-mindedly, not looking at him. ‘Or is it that her niceness struck you so particularly by comparison with me?’

As Gilbert didn’t reply, she transferred her glance from the distant tree-tops to his face. He was gazing back at her with an unreadable, tense expression.

‘ _What_?’ she asked with a rather nervous little laugh.

‘I wish you’d stop doing that.’

‘Doing what?’ Anne prodded, even though she was uneasily certain she knew what he was aiming at.

‘Running yourself down. For no reason that I can see, too, except if it’s to make me feel bad about not showing you enough how—‘ he stopped, frowning and looking away.

Anne felt suddenly very cold. ‘I’m not trying to do that,’ she said quietly. ‘I swear I’m not, Gil.’

‘All right.’

‘Don’t be angry.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Don’t sulk, then. I can’t stand it.’

With a swift, sudden movement, he turned upon her. Her attempt to meet his scorching gaze with a defiant one of her own was not wholly successful.

‘Listen, Anne,’ he said with intensity. ‘Diana is right. The proper thing to do was to have gone to Miss Cuthbert and told her right away. I’ve promised you to wait until after the dance, and I’ll stick to it, but I’m going to ask her formal permission to court you the day after. _Unless_ ,’ he added, his jaw tightening, ‘you don’t consider what is between us serious enough to warrant that. In that case, we’ll go back to being friends.’

Anne felt the ground give away under her feet. ‘But—but you said yourself we couldn’t do that—‘

A slight tremor passed over his face. ‘I know.’

‘And, Gil,’ she added, clutching at his sleeves quite unwittingly, ‘don’t you _see_ that if we announce our intentions openly they’re all going to be on us and not give us a moment’s peace? We’ll never be alone with each other, not for five minutes straight!’

‘And that’s how it ought to be!’ he snapped back at her, suddenly giving way to his anger. ‘Don’t you see that we’re lying ourselves open to all kinds of insidious gossip? Anne, I don’t want you to look back on our relationship one day and regret it because it has ruined your reputation!’

‘ _Reputation_?’ Anne repeated shrilly, nerves getting the better of her. ‘ _Look back_ on our relationship? What do you mean, _look back on it_? You’re envisaging it already as a thing of the past, then?’

‘Isn’t it _you_ who’s afraid to own up to being with me even in front of the girl who is your best friend?’ Gilbert demanded sternly in return.

At that, the defences Anne had so painstakingly raised around her heart crumbled into dust. Taking his face between her hands and looking him directly in the eyes, she said with open fury which, considering her words, was almost grotesque,

‘That’s because I’m in love with you, _you godforsaken idiot_! I care about you so much it _hurts_ , and yet I have to spend every single hour of every single day reminding myself that it’s only temporary!’

Gilbert stared back at her with such patent disbelief she felt like bursting into hysterical laughter.

‘What exactly is only temporary?’ he asked eventually, clutching at the only part of her utterance which he could take in immediately.

Anne heaved an exasperated sigh, taking her hands away from his face and feeling, now that she had uttered those irreversible words and gotten no in-kind reply, like a tremendous fool.

‘This – _us_ ,’ she said lamely.

Gilbert’s eyes were scanning her face in a dazed, crazy kind of way.

‘ _Us_? But why should it be, if you,’ he gulped, ‘if you _do_ care about me?’

‘Because,’ Anne enunciated painfully, feeling utterly humiliated by the fact that she had to spell it out for him but quite past the point of feeling hurt in her pride, ‘ _you_ don’t care about _me_.’

There was a moment of stupefied silence, and then Gilbert said quietly,

‘ _Oh_.’

‘Oh?’ Anne flared up, giving him a black look. ‘That’s all you’re going to say? _Oh_? Oh, excuse me, you poor deluded child, but it never crossed my mind that you were actually foolish enough to assume that a person as handsome, clever, universally liked and admired as me could possibly care about—‘

It was Gilbert who took her face in his hands this time, and she stopped dead silent at the look of unbounded happiness in his eyes.

‘Anne Shirley, I love you _so much_ ,’ he said, and then kissed her on the lips, so softly she felt like she might melt if it was not for the support of his hard, warm, down-to-earth body.

Then they broke off and simply stood wrapped in each other’s arms for a moment. Anne hid her face in his chest, her eyes closed.

‘I love you,’ she heard Gilbert whisper into her hair, and a delightful shiver ran along her spine. ‘I love you, Anne.’

‘I’ve heard you,’ she said with an awkward giggle, looking up. The look on his face was glorious, and she was certain her own face must be positively brick-red.

He grinned at her. ‘I’m making up for all the years of _not_ being able to say it.’

‘Not _years_ , surely,’ she countered, rolling her eyes, but her heart was beating out of her chest with pure joy.

‘Years,’ he repeated, beginning to shower kisses all over her face. ‘Years and years and years. And the past few days felt like an additional year all in themselves. It was terrible to be so close to you and not be able to tell you.’

‘Why didn’t you?’ she queried, pulling away a little so that she could look him in the eyes.

‘I was afraid of scaring you off. So terribly, so _bloody_ afraid—‘

‘Hey!’ she shoved him on the arm. ‘Foul language around ladies?’

‘ _You_ called me a godforsaken fool confessing your love for me,’ he replied with a smirk. ‘That beats all the foul language _I_ might possibly use.’

She glared at him. ‘Don’t you _dare_ make fun of me for that. I was desperate. _And_ half out of my mind with misery. I was sure you were just having a crush on me.’

Gilbert laughed. ‘Yeah, a lifelong crush. I’m definitely having _that_ on you, Miss Shirley.’

Anne kissed him in reply, and then said,

‘I think we need to swear not to keep anything secret from each other anymore. No matter how scared of the other’s reaction we might me.’

‘Definitely,’ he replied, curling a stray strand of her hair around his finger and kissing it. ‘Only you must tell me that you still love me daily, so that I may be certain you’ve not gone and changed your mind.’

‘I’m _not_ going to.’

‘I’ll hold you to it,’ he whispered with his crooked, boyish smile, bending down to kiss her again.


	16. if you'll keep reaching out, I'll keep coming back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! It's been quite some time, but college work takes precedence over everything else in my life right now even more than it did before ,_, 
> 
> however, here's a truly long one, so I hope you forgive the amount of time it took me to put it up!

Next morning Anne was still feeling positively giddy with happiness, so much so that she actually neglected to make Gilbert let her walk the last few hundred yards on her own like she always did. He himself was looking as though he had genuine difficulty believing that the events of the day before were really true, and kept casting quick, incredulously blissful glances at the girl walking at his side.

‘You’d better say something annoying to me quickly,’ Anne said, smiling archly up at him as they were nearing the schoolhouse. ‘I can’t walk in there looking all pleased to be in your company.’

‘But they all know we’re friends,’ Gilbert pointed out. ‘Isn’t that what friends do? You know, enjoy each other’s company?’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘Not the kind of friends _we_ are. _That_ kind just storms at each other without respite.’

‘I like it when you storm at me.’

‘ _Like it_? Is that why you keep giving me reasons to?’

‘Maybe it is.’

Anne sent him an indignant glare, which he met with a teasing smirk.

‘See? Just like a cat whose red fur’s all up with anger,’ he said with a chuckle, earning himself a slap on the arm.

‘Gilbert _Blythe_!—‘

‘Do you actually let this girl manhandle you now, Blythe?’

Involuntarily, thoughtlessly, Anne’s fingers slid down to Gilbert’s hand. She clutched at it, dragging him forward. They were now almost at the schoolhouse door, and she hoped that if she managed to get them inside Billy would leave them alone.

‘Ignore him, Gil,’ she urged quietly.

‘ _Gil_?’ Billy Andrews repeated loudly with an obscene jeer. ‘Just look at these lovebirds, people! They’re fairly cooing at each other, holding hands and all! I suppose it’s high time the banns were put up! Only in your place, Blythe, before you consummate the prospective marriage, I’d make sure your loony little girlfriend is not actually descended from confirmed lunatics!’

That was it. In one swift movement, Gilbert swung round and dealt the other boy a vicious blow on the jaw.

‘Boys! Stop it! Stop it _right now_!’

In another moment, Miss Stacy was beside them.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ she asked sharply, looking from Billy, who was sitting crouched on the ground nursing his jaw in his hands with the look of a wronged martyr on his face, to Gilbert, whose face was rigid and white with unrepentant fury.

‘It was _him_!’ squealed Billy from the ground. ‘You saw how it was, Miss Stacy! I did not even touch him!’

‘Why did you do this, Gilbert?’ asked Miss Stacy, giving the boy a sharp, searching look.

Gilbert met her eyes squarely, but said nothing.

Anne caught the small triumphant glint in Billy’s eyes, and her anger reached boiling point.

‘It was Billy who started it, Miss Stacy!’ she said quickly. ‘He said—‘ she stopped, suddenly realising she could not possibly repeat the things Billy had said in front not only of Miss Stacy, but also the small gaping crowd of her schoolmates who had gathered around them.

‘Yes?’ prompted Miss Stacy, frowning.

‘He said some really, really terrible, offensive things,’ finished Anne lamely.

Miss Stacy raised her eyebrows. ‘You mean to tell me Gilbert nearly dislodged his jaw because of some childish taunts? This is not what I’d have expected from you, Gilbert,’ she added severely, turning towards the still silent boy. ‘Do you have anything to say for yourself? Or am I to take it that this was just an act of unwarranted physical violence on your part?’

‘I don’t have anything to say,’ said Gilbert, quietly and unemotionally.

Anne felt desperate.

‘Miss Stacy, I’ll explain everything, only please let me do it in private, not here,’ she put in, fighting the tears that were beginning to prick at her eyes.

The teacher, seeing that her distress was genuine, softened a little.

‘All right,’ she said, ‘I’ll talk to the three of you after class.’

Then she shooed the rest of the pupils in. Billy quickly joined his friends, and Anne, disregarding the obviously curious glances sent their way by the girls, walked in at the rear close to Gilbert.

‘Gil, it’s all right. You shouldn’t have— I really don’t mind—‘ she began quietly, looking up at him imploringly.

He met her eyes, but said nothing, his face still tense with anger.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but the sound of suppressed murmurs all around them recalled her to the sense of where they were, and she forced herself to leave Gilbert’s side and trail over to where Diana was sitting with a worried frown on her face, with Ruby and Tillie fairly agog with emotion behind her.

 

***

 

‘Anne Shirley, what exactly was _that_?’

Anne had been trying to prepare a convincing reply to this attack all through the morning lessons, but now lunch break had come and she still found herself unable to meet Ruby’s accusing tones with anything other than a shrug.

‘Billy was talking rubbish,’ she said with forced indifference. ‘And Gilbert made him shut up.’

‘You mean he beat Billy up for you, right?’

‘ _Right_ ,’ put in Diana with angry exasperation before Anne could reply. ‘Because, in case you forgot, Ruby, it is _Anne_ whom Billy has been tormenting for the past four years. Not _you_. _You_ do not need Gilbert to stand up to anyone for you. You have never been insulted once in your entire life, while Anne has to put up with obscenities from Billy on a daily basis. If you ask me, Gilbert has done everyone a good turn by making him shut his filthy mouth up. I’d have fought him myself long ago if I were a boy.’

Ruby seemed somewhat abashed by this recital but, unfortunately, Josie Pye was not.

‘You were _holding hands_ ,’ she pointed out emphatically, looking at Anne with narrowed, maliciously glinting eyes. ‘I _saw_ you. You took his hand and he let you hold it. It didn’t look as though this was the first time you’d done it, either.’

‘I was simply trying to keep him for fighting Billy!’ replied Anne, aware that her cheeks were flaming red. ‘Do you all really think it’s pleasant for me to be involved in a situation like this? That’s absurd!’

‘You didn’t look as though you minded being with Gilbert. You were positively _clinging_ to him,’ countered Josie undauntedly. ‘And _neither_ of you looked as though that was an uncommon occurrence!’

‘Just what are you suggesting?’ asked Anne, adopting a haughty manner in an attempt to veil her increasing discomfiture.

‘That you, Anne Shirley,’ hissed Josie from between her teeth, ‘ are a liar and a traitor to your friend Ruby!’

Anne stared back hard but could not force herself to deny the accusation, which to her ears had a painfully true ring. Fortunately, Diana stepped in again.

‘This is really taking it a bit too far, Josie,’ she said firmly, putting her arm around Anne’s tense shoulders. ‘You are talking nonsense just to spite Anne, and—‘

Josie interrupted her. ‘All right. Let her prove us wrong.’

‘How?’ asked Diana ironically. ‘Do you want her to tell Gilbert never to speak to her again, as though we were thirteen years old?’

A slow, vicious smile spread over Josie’s face.

‘No,’ she said calmly. ‘I want her to make him to come up here right now and tell us the truth, whatever it is.’

There was a moment’s silence.

‘All right,’ said Anne dully.

‘You don’t have to do this, Anne,’ began Diana, but was cut off by Josie.

‘If you don’t, we’ll assume you’ve been carrying on with him behind the backs of everyone.’

Without another word, Anne looked over her shoulder towards where Gilbert was seated some distance away in his usual place at his desk.

‘I’ll go and ask him to come up here, then,’ she said, beginning to get up, but Josie stopped her.

‘No! I don’t intend to let you have even a second in private before you ask him. Call out to him and tell him to come up here. And don’t even _try_ to do anything to let him know what it’s all about on the sly. Look normal when you ask him. I’m keeping an eye on you.’

‘You are crazy,’ Anne snapped in reply. In reality, she was fairly sick with apprehension. Gilbert was certain to think she had told the girls about their relationship and they, disbelieving, wanted him to corroborate her words.

However, there was nothing for it but to take the plunge. She was not going to let Josie win by a walk-over.

‘Gilbert, could I trouble you to come here for a moment?’ she called levelly, surprised by her own sudden calm.

Gilbert complied, unsmilingly.

‘Yes?’ he asked, politely but indifferently, meeting her gaze levelly.

‘The girls want to know,’ Anne began, feeling Josie’s watchful gaze on her face, ‘whether or not we are still friends.’

‘Who? You and me?’ he ascertained with a frown. ‘Why shouldn’t we be?’

A wave of relief rolled over her – so Gilbert _had_ guessed that the question was a trap!

‘They had the absurd notion that – that there is something more between us,’ she said with an awkward little laugh.

Gilbert smiled a wry, strained smile.

‘Because I gave Billy a sock on the jaw?’

‘No!’ interrupted Josie harshly, getting up and crossing her arms. Evidently, the show they put on for her benefit did not satisfy her. ‘Because you were holding hands this morning when you met him. Because she calls you _Gil_. Because there is a rumor going on that you two are on,’ she paused, and then brought the word out with a snarl, ‘ _intimate_ terms – and Anne, as we all know, is quite experienced in that quarter. _That’s_ why.’

Gilbert’s face went rigid with suppressed anger. Anne, whose eyes had been glued to his face, sprung up and stood between him and the maliciously triumphant Josie.

‘You _witch_! How dare you?’ she said contemptuously. ‘Really, Josie, it is one thing to dislike me and show it, and another to say such terrible things! I’ve already repented enough for the foolish things I said when I didn’t know any better, haven’t I?’

‘Ah, so you _do_ know better _now_? Has Gilbert helped you to gain that knowledge?’

A few things happened in the next moment. Anne instinctively reached out to stop Gilbert from taking a step in Josie’s direction; he said, ‘Let _go_ ,’ in a tone so angry she flinched away; Diana said, ‘Stop being idiots, all of you!’; and Miss Stacy came into the classroom.

‘What’s the commotion at the back there?’ she called out to them impatiently. ‘Come and take your seats. We’ve a lot of work to get through before the day’s over.’

Gilbert’s eyes met Anne’s. His expression made her want to cry.

‘Come on, girls!’ urged Miss Stacy. ‘We’re waiting for you!’

Josie went away with a disdainful sniff. Jane, Tillie, and Ruby, who had watched the exchange between the main trio of the little drama with gaping eyes, reluctantly shifted to their feet and followed suit.

‘Come on,’ said Diana quietly and unhappily. ‘Oh, how _can_ Josie be so hateful?’

‘Come on, Gil,’ Anne whispered, giving his arm a little push.

Without a word, he turned around a preceded the two girls to the front of the classroom.

 

***

‘Anne, Gilbert, and Billy, if I could trouble you now for a moment.’

Diana sent Anne an sympathetic smile and left without waiting for the other girls, who went out all together, talking excitedly. Gradually, the classroom was left empty save for Miss Stacy and the three pupils whom she regarded sternly from behind her desk.

‘It was him—‘ Billy took up his wail, but was cut short by a decisive,

‘Yes, Billy, we’ve heard _your_ version of the events. What about yours, Gilbert? Have you made up your mind to speak out?’

Gilbert, who throughout the day had not spoken more times than was absolutely inevitable, but now seemed at least much calmer if no less tense than before, replied,

‘He offended Anne.’

Miss Stacy pursed up her lips. ‘Gilbert, I would have expected you to be wise enough to know that words, however offensive, do not justify the use of physical violence.’

Gilbert looked back at her levelly, and was silent.

Miss Stacy gave a sigh.

‘All right,’ she said, getting up from her seat. ‘You two boys shake hands and make peace, and try and resolve your quarrells in a civilised way in the future.’

Billy, a look of barely suppressed triumph on his face, turned towards Gilbert with an extended hand.

Gilbert didn’t even look at him.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Stacy, but I can’t do it,’ he said dully.

Miss Stacy raised her eyebrows. ‘Can’t or won’t?’

‘Both.’

The teacher’s impatient gaze was transferred to where Anne stood close by Gilbert’s side, wringing her hands in silent misery.

‘Anne? You said you could explain.’

Relieved to be asked to speak at last, Anne took a small step forward, trying to disregard the glance she saw Gilbert cast at her from the corner of his eye.

‘Yes,’ she said, trying to speak with composure. ‘Gilbert only refuses to defend himself because he doesn’t want to repeat the things Billy said about me. But I don’t mind. He said that I’m crazy, and that—‘ she tried hard to keep her voice from wavering, ‘that my—my parents were probably crazy as well. He—well, he _warned_ Gilbert against getting involved with a person like me.’

An ominous frown appeared between Miss Stacy’s brows.

‘Billy, is this true?’

Billy fidgeted. ‘Well I— I was joking.’

A sudden, unpleasantly sharp laugh escaped Gilbert at that.

‘ _Joking_?’ he repeated, giving the other boy a look of utter disgust. ‘You call _that_ joking?’

‘Gilbert, don’t,’ put in Miss Stacy quickly, coming round from behind the desk and putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘Billy,’ she added, turning towards the latter, ‘tell your mother she is requested to come over for a talk with me tomorrow. No,’ she put up a hand to stop his incipient complaints, ‘no arguing. You may go.’

Billy cast Gilbert a black look.

‘What about _him_?’ he demanded.

The teacher gave him a wry smile. ‘ _He’s_ going to have it worse that you, Billy, you can count on that.’

‘He has no father to—to punish him,’ Billy pointed out childishly.

‘No, indeed,’ said Miss Stacy, addressing Gilbert. ‘But I think it’s quite safe to leave you to consider within your own conscience whether or not what you did was right.’

Billy gave a contemptuous snort. ‘Why can’t _I_ do that as well?’

‘Because you _have_ no conscience,’ Anne snapped, her temper getting the better of her resolve to prove she was mature enough to keep quiet.

‘Hush, Anne,’ said Miss Stacy, casting her a stern glance.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Stacy, but—‘

The teacher ignored this.

‘Billy, you may go home,’ she said briskly. ‘Gilbert, you wait for Anne outside.’

Anne stared. Surely, she was not going to be punished because she had been the cause of a boys’ shindy?

When they were left alone, she looked uncertainly up at Miss Stacy. The teacher returned her gaze with gravity.

‘Anne,’ she said finally, ‘you turn seventeen in March, don’t you?’

Anne nodded.

Unexpectedly, Miss Stacy smiled rather dreamily. ‘I was seventeen and three months when I met my husband,’ she said. ‘We got engaged three years later.’

At that, Anne’s romantical soul got the better of her bewilderment.

‘That’s so lovely!’ she said eagerly. ‘You met him at Queen’s then, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. Knowing him made getting through the course much easier. You, of course,’ Miss Stacy added with a slight smile, ‘already will know at least _one_ person.’

‘You mean Gilbert?’

‘Yes – Gilbert.’

She cast Anne an openly searching gaze, which the girl managed to return in blank silence. Admitting defeat, Miss Stacy gave a little sigh and said,

‘All right, Anne, I won’t take any more of your time. Just remember, if there ever was anything you needed to talk about, I’m always there to listen.’

Anne felt rather guilty, but managed an innocent smile.

‘Thank you, Miss Stacy. Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye, Anne.’

Anne walked slowly out of the schoolhouse. Outside, in the warm afternoon light, Gilbert stood waiting with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

They headed home without exchanging a word. After a few moments’ complete silence, Anne felt Gilbert’s warm fingers close around her own.

She looked down at their intertwined hands and noticed that his knuckles were bruised rather badly.

‘It’s a shame to give Billy the chance to spoil such talented hands,’ she said quietly, looking up at him.

He met her eyes with a silent frown of annoyance.

‘I mean it. He’s not worth it.’

‘ _You_ are,’ Gilbert snapped, tugging his hand free and crossing his arms on his chest.

‘I told you a thousand times,’ Anne went on, forcing herself to remain calm, ‘I don’t mind what people say. I’m used to—‘

‘For God’s sake, stop it, Anne!’ he interrupted angrily. ‘It’s not something you – or anyone – ought to have to be used to! And I’m not going to let anyone insult you with such _filthy_ —‘

‘Well, my life _was_ rather filthy before I came to live here, you know,’ Anne put in with a shade of irritation in her voice, meeting his bewildered glance with a shrug and feigning nonchalance she was far from feeling. ‘It’s no use denying it. I’m not the pure, innocent young lady Diana and Ruby and the other girls are.’

‘Don’t say such—‘

‘Why not?’ she’d stopped walking, facing him square on, colour mounting to her cheeks. ‘It’s the truth. Billy was right. I know about things the other girls would never even dare imagine exist. Real life – married life – isn’t pretty and romantical like they think. It’s brutal and sordid and,’ she looked away from Gilbert’s face, his expression making her want to bite her tongue off for saying anything at all, ‘and _filthy_.’

There was a moment of excruciating silence during with Anne was only capable of keeping herself from running away by focusing exclusively on the wild thumping of her heart.

Then she felt Gilbert’s hand on her cheek. Gently, he made her turn back to face him.

‘It isn’t,’ he said with a desperate kind of earnestness, his eyes boring into hers. ‘I swear to you it isn’t, Anne. What you witnessed – saw – heard,’ the uncertain break in his voice made Anne’s heart skip a beat painfully, ‘it was not life as it’s _meant_ to be lived. It was life gone evil and twisted. I swear to you it’s completely different when – when people love and trust and respect each other. _And_ _we do_.’

Anne nodded, her throat too tight for speech.

‘I mean it, Anne. It won’t be – _like that_ – with us. I swear it.’

‘I know,’ she managed, turning her head so that her lips were against the inside of his palm. ‘I know, Gil.’

Without another word, he pulled her flush against himself. The relief of feeling Gilbert’s arms around her was enormous to Anne. She tried to think back to what it was like not to know he loved and accepted her for whatever she was worth but her imagination balked at the task.

She took a deep breath, taking in as much as she could of the scent of his skin and clothes, and forced herself to gently slide out of his arms.

His face was still tense and anxious.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said with an awkward little laugh, reaching up to touch his cheek. ‘Don’t look so worried. I know you’re right. I just got a little hysterical. I think,’ she added slowly, an impish smile forming itself on her lips, ‘the _real_ reason is I don’t want you to get your hands spoiled because that would mean I would lose all chance of marrying a rich surgeon of international fame.’

An unwilling, crooked smile tugged at the corners of Gilbert’s lips. ‘Ha-ha, _very_ funny.’

Anne pulled at his hand, making him resume walking and smiling at him over her shoulder.

‘Not a bit. Didn’t you know _that_ was the reason I – what’s the expression – _set my cap_ at you? Because I count on your dragging me up a few rungs of the social _and_ the financial ladder?’

Gilbert raised his eyebrows coolly. ‘The Sloanes are a very rich, old family, you know.’

‘Oh, _are_ they?’

‘Quite unlike the Blythes. The Blythes have always been poor.’

‘Poor as church mice.’

‘Exactly.’

At this point, Anne swirled round and reached up to kiss him, unexpectedly and rather fiercely, on the mouth.

‘It’s been made up to them in brains, then. _And_ in looks,’ she said with giggle, her lips against his.

‘ _And_ in luck,’ Gilbert added breathlessly. ‘I feel rather unreasonably lucky at the moment myself.’

‘You know what they say, fortune favours fools—‘

She did not manage to finish, her words cut off by another heady kiss.

Strangely enough, she did not mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so this got unintentionally serious, but the next chapter is THE BIG AVONLEA DANCE, so it's going to be obviously all fun and games from now on! (wink wink :D)


	17. it's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people, first of all I'm so sorry I've not had the time to reply to comments recently - I still read them all and each and every one makes me smile, thank you and keep 'em coming!
> 
> second of all, I know I said the dance was definitely going to take place in this chapter but somehow more shirbert-y nonsense of the usual type intervened again . . . however, cross my heart the next chapter IS the dance!

‘Anne, I want to apologise to you,’ said Ruby the next day, coming up to Anne as soon as the latter, having prudently shed Gilbert a few minutes previously, walked into the schoolhouse. ‘It was nasty of me to attack you the way I did.’

Anne smiled. ‘Don’t worry about it. It—I really understand why you acted the way you did.’

‘Well, I think it’s splendid of Gilbert to have stood up for you the way he did,’ Ruby went on dreamily. ‘Did Miss Stacy scold them _terribly_?’

‘Billy’s mother’s to come to school after classes today.’

‘Today?’ Ruby stared. ‘Tomorrow’s the dance!’

Anne shook her shoulders. ‘So what?’

‘She – I mean Billy’s mother – may forbid him to go!’

‘So?’

‘Oh, Anne, he’s going with _Josie_.’

Anne’s heart gave an unpleasantly ominous stutter, but she remained resolute. ‘Well, he should have thought about that before he picked on us— _me_ in that odious manner.’

Ruby looked dubious, but at that moment Gilbert entered the room, immediately becoming the sole focus of her attention. Anne, carefully avoiding his eyes, moved to hang up her coat.

‘Oh, Gilbert, I simply can’t wait for tomorrow!’ she heard Ruby gush behind her back. ‘I do _so_ hope you’ll like my dress!’

‘I’m certain I will,’ Gilbert replied pleasantly.

‘I’m so lucky to be blonde, you know. I can wear any colour I like. I often feel sorry,’ lowering her voice confidentially, ‘for Anne. Her hair is really quite. . . difficult.’

At that moment, Anne turned and met Gilbert’s eyes.

‘I think it’s extraordinary,’ he said levelly.

Ruby gave an audible gasp.

‘I thought you have grown out of teasing me about my hair, Gilbert Blythe,’ Anne said in a clear voice, giving him an exaggeratedly annoyed look. ‘But evidently I was mistaken. I wish you a good day. Come, Ruby. We will not mingle with underbred people.’

Linking her arm through Ruby’s, she led her towards their seats without another look behind.

‘Really, Anne, you ought to be more polite to him,’ Ruby said, giggling confusedly but with evident relief. ‘He didn’t really say anything offensive—‘

‘Oh, that’s _just_ his way,’ said Anne, carefully preserving the tone of deeply injured pride. ‘But trust me, he knew perfectly well he hit where it could hurt me the most.’

Ruby giggled again. ‘Oh, Anne, I’m so thrilled for tomorrow. I think it’s going to be the proper beginning of my and Gilbert’s courtship, for all Diana may say we’re too young for that kind of thing.’

Anne forced her facial muscles to form themselves into a smile, but was fortunately saved from having to make a reply by the approach of giggling Tillie, who immediately involved Ruby in a heated, whispered conversation.

She turned to take her seat and met Diana’s half reproachful, half concerned eyes.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Why _wouldn’t_ I be?’ Anne countered somewhat snappishly.

Diana was undaunted. ‘And what happens after tomorrow?’

‘Nothing,’ Anne replied decisively, fairly slamming her books onto the desk. ‘ _Nothing_ happens, Di. It’s just a stupid dance, for Heaven’s sake. I’m sick and tired of the whole thing. I wish to God it had never entered the girls’ heads to organise it at all. Can we _please_ talk about something else for a change?’

Diana gave a meaningful sigh but refrained from saying anything more.

 

***

 

Having put on her coat, Anne quite intuitively looked round to see whether Gilbert was around.

She was hard put to it not to let her feelings show when she saw him walking out of the schoolhouse with Ruby actually _hanging on his arm_.

‘Come on, Anne,’ urged Diana, giving her a little push forward.

The two girls followed near enough upon the footsteps of the other pair to be able to hear that Ruby prattled on almost incessantly and to see her rapt – really there was no other word for it – face upturned towards Gilbert’s politely attentive one.

Diana, perhaps in order to avoid another unpleasant exchange, did not attempt to draw Anne into any kind of talk, and the latter was so completely wrapped up in her own bleak thoughts that when Diana said goodbye at the crossings she looked surprised to be reminded of her presence.

Anne went slowly up the path, wondering how on earth she could ever have thought that it was a good idea to let Ruby continue to think Gilbert was interested in her. She tried to picture to herself what it would be like to be in her friend’s place, due to find out soon that all she had believed so earnestly was mere pretense, and her stomach turned as she thought about the calamity her own happiness meant for the other girl.

Thus plunged in depressing prospects, she did not hear the quick, striding steps which approached her from behind, and it came as a complete shock when a warm hand closed round her wrist and spun her round.

As soon as he saw her expression, Gilbert’s grin faded into a vexed frown.

‘What is it?’ he asked gently, his other hand going up to cup her cheek.

Anne merely shook her head and turned her face away. ‘Nothing. I’m tired.’

‘I thought we were done with fobbing each other off.’

With a sigh, she confronted his anxious, questioning gaze.

‘It’s just that I’m not particularly eager to start another futile argument,’ she said with forced composure, which manner she could see Gilbert disliked very much. ‘It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.’

His eyes bore into her for a moment more, challenging her to tell him the truth. Anne, however, didn’t flinch.

‘All right. Let’s get you home, then,’ he said eventually, shrugging and tugging at her hand to make her go on.

Anne complied, and they walked on a few paces in strained silence.

Then she snapped.

‘Damn it all!’ she cried irritably, freeing her hand and confronting Gilbert with a scowl. ‘Why didn’t you force me to tell the girls all about us right away? Why didn’t you do _something_? Why did you let a brainless hysteric like me decide what was the right thing to do? As if I could ever know _that_!’

 ‘So now it’s my fault, is it?’ Gilbert asked incredulously and with just a shade of annoyance.

‘It certainly is not my fault I fell in love with you!’ replied Anne hotly. ‘ _I_ tried to do everything _not to_!’

Gilbert stared at her for a moment, apparently speechless. Then a smirk, one which Anne found particularly infuriating (mainly because it made him look way too attractive for his own good), began to tug at his lips.

‘I see. So I’ve basically made you do it against your will.’

‘Yes. On purpose. You’re hateful like that.’

‘Oh, am I? Perhaps I am. We,’ he paused a moment, ‘ _underbred_ people tend to be.’

Anne had by now become so concentrated upon fighting the urge to take his stupid, infernally handsome face in her hands and make him kiss her senseless that when _he_ pulled her flush against himself and crashed his lips to hers she had no presence of mind to do anything but kiss him back.

In a few seconds, she hardly knew how, she found herself with her back to a nearby tree. It seemed to her Gilbert’s hands were everywhere at once, and yet she could not get enough of his touch. She heard herself make a sound like a complaining moan which, to her dismay, instead of making Gilbert kiss her harder made him suddenly pause.

The way he looked at her as he pulled away made her blush scarlet, it was so _indecently_ direct.

‘I’m sorry—’ he began hoarsely. ‘It’s just that you are so—so—‘ he gulped. ‘I just can’t seem stop wanting to kiss you. I think about it so constantly it’s driving me mad.’

Anne felt a new wave of longing for the feeling of his hands on her body surge within her at those words, completely drowning any embarrassment she might have felt seconds before.

‘Then why _did_ you stop?’ she breathed, tugging at his coat collar and just touching his lips with her own. ‘Don’t you know I never want you to? Can’t you _tell_?’

His response was a kiss which made her feel grateful for the support the tree offered her completely unnerved body.

When he finally pulled away he gazed at her so adoringly it was somehow even more intimate than the kiss itself.

‘Stop _staring_ ,’ Anne giggled, putting her hands up to her flushed face. ‘I’m probably the colour of a peony. And I highly doubt it looks good on me.’

‘It looks—‘ His eyebrows quirked up. ‘Ah, I see. Because of your _hair_. Your extraordinary—’

She gave him a half-hearted slap on the shoulder. ‘Shut up. Didn’t you see Ruby’s reaction when you said that? You really ought to start using those glorified grey cells of yours a little. She wouldn’t believe your were poking fun.’

‘That’s because I wasn’t,’ he countered promptly. ‘I love your hair.’

Anne rolled her eyes exasperatedly, but couldn’t help laughing at the same time. ‘Yes, but Ruby’s not supposed to know it. _Nobody_ is.’

He smiled and leant into another kiss, but Anne put a palm against his cheek to prevent him. ‘Stop distracting me. I want to talk.’

Gilbert frowned funnily. ‘Do you? You never said so.’

‘That’s because you didn’t give me the chance,’ snorted Anne, sliding out from between him and the tree trunk and crossing her arms on her chest in an attitude of belligerence which brought a smirk to Gilbert’s lips.

‘All right, out with it.’

‘You have to swear not to say “I told you so”. Now or _ever._ ’

‘Not _ever_?’ he repeated teasingly.

‘Gil, I’m serious.’

She _did_ sound serious now, and all trace of playfulness evaporating from his manner, Gilbert said quickly,

‘All right. I _won’t_ say it. What is it?’

Anne looked away. ‘Ruby thinks you’re going to begin courting her officially after tomorrow’s dance.’

Gilbert was silent, and she looked back at him. He was frowning in what she thought was half confusion, half annoyance.

‘Well, I’m _not_ ,’ he said tersely. ‘And I don’t understand why she would think that. I’ve never given her the slightest reason to believe I cared about her that way.’

‘ _She_ thinks otherwise,’ Anne pointed out unthinkingly, whereupon Gilbert’s frown deepened.

‘And what do _you_ think?’ he countered bluntly.

‘I?’ Anne stuttered, somewhat taken aback by his harsh reaction. ‘I—I don’t think anything. I think you’ve always been nice to her.’

‘ _Nice_?’ he repeated with a short bark of a laugh. ‘Is the fact the one behaves decently towards another person evidence that they plan to marry them?’

‘Gil, calm down,’ Anne said, coming up to him and touching him lightly on the arm. ‘There isn’t anything to get upset about—‘

For a moment she was half-afraid he was going to flinch away, but instead he closed his eyes and sighed. ‘It’s just—it’s just that I’ve never, since the day we met, even really _looked_ at any other girl, you know. They’re all so—so—’

‘Demure, modest, and well-mannered?’ Anne supplied archly, and was relieved to see him smile.

‘I was going to say dull,’ he said his fingers going up to tug lightly at the end of her braid. ‘Anne, you do believe me, don’t you? You know that no one really matters but you?’

Rolling her eyes, she reached up to kiss him lightly. ‘Of course I do, you idiot. That’s not why I said that at all. It’s just that Ruby is going to be devastated, and it’s _my_ fault. And it wouldn’t have happened if I had listened to you, and—‘

‘Anne, it’s not _your_ fault that she imagines herself in love with me,’ he interrupted decisively. ‘We’ve already established that, haven’t we? And I hope – and believe – it’s not _my_ fault either. And people get over that kind of thing every day all over the world. She’ll be fine.’

Anne gave him a black look and, picking up her discarded satchel, resumed the walk home with her chin rather high up in the air.

‘You are heartless, Gilbert Blythe,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘You only care about yourself. As long as you’ve got what you want, everyone else may suffer.’

‘Hey!’ he protested, catching up with her and trying to look in her averted face. ‘That’s not true. And “suffer” is rather a strong word to use, isn’t it?’

Anne gave him a haughty look and remained pointedly silent.

‘Besides,’ Gilbert went on with an incipient smirk, ‘for the longest time I believed I would not get what _I_ wanted either. I was positively _pining_ after you, Anne Shirley.’

‘Pining?’ she repeated with exaggerated coldness. ‘You certainly never looked it. I never knew you other than pleased with yourself.’

The words were hardly out of her mouth when she remembered that day nearly five years ago now when she stumbled upon him outside of the pawnshop in Charlottetown, his grief-stricken face, so dear to her even then, worn haggard by the suffering his father’s slow, painful death had put him through.

Instant remorse clutching at her heart, she looked up at him with contrition.

‘I’m sorry. That’s not true. I know you’ve not always been happy. I was just joking, you know, and—‘

‘Anne, it’s all right,’ he interrupted quickly with an embarrassed little smile, catching hold of her hand. ‘I know. I can tell. And,’ he added more seriously, his eyes fixed earnestly on hers, ‘whatever my life has been, the end result is that I’m here with you right now, and I would not have it any other way.’

Since they were now only screened from the front yard of her house by a thin line of mostly leafless trees, Anne was forced to forgo the desire to kiss him again. However, the look she gave him in return was very eloquent.

After a few more moments’ silence during which they both gazed happily and rather distractedly into each other’s eyes, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze and, shutting her mind to the fact that her words were at stark variance with the worries she had expressed previously, said,

‘Be sure to be nice to Ruby tomorrow. Dance with her as many times as she wants to.’

Gilbert frowned.

‘You won’t mind?’

‘No,’ she said, knowing perfectly well that she would but determined not to let a trace of it show.

‘All right.’

Anne flashed him a bravely sweet smile and, having made sure that no one was about, gave him a peck goodbye on the cheek.


	18. oh my my, it’s getting late, Cinderella // and how long before these dresses turn right back to rags?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the time for unalloyed happiness has come! avanti, friends!

Saturday dawned cloudless and warm, giving Anne at least the consoling knowledge that she was not in danger of getting wet on her way to the town hall.

Also, Charles Sloane had not been present at school since Wednesday, and she was not above hoping that he had a cold severe enough to make Mrs Sloane keep him in bed, thus saving her from the misery of being plagued with his googley-eyed pomposity throughout the evening.

As the clock struck three in the afternoon, Anne opened her closet and took out, with rather unsteady hands, the box containing Gilbert’s (and _Mary’s_ , she was quick to remind herself) present.

When Diana, looking more than usually like an exquisite Dresden china doll in a cream-coloured dress of the most fashionable cut, came in about an hour later, she could not help exclaiming,

‘Oh, Anne, you _do_ look wonderful!’

This was one of the few points on which Anne was capable of complete skepticism, and although herself pleased and not a little surprised at how becoming both the daring colour and the simple cut of the dress had proved to be, she greeted the compliment with an incredulous laugh, and replied,

‘Thank you for your kind words, Diana, but it’s you who looks exactly as though you’ve stepped out of a picture. You and Moody will make the oddest couple,’ she added with a smirk, ‘you being the best-looking person in the room and he the most awkward.’

‘He may not be very graceful, but he’s the nicest boy in town,’ countered Diana, dimpling. ‘Though obviously you will not agree with me _there_.’

‘I’ve never thought Gilbert particularly nice, if that’s what you mean,’ said Anne with a shrug, giving one last smooth to her hair.

‘Really, Anne!’

‘We don’t have much time to be nice to each other, you know,’ Anne went on, amused with the look of genuine shock on Diana’s face. ‘We’re always either insulting each other or—‘

‘ _Or_?’

‘Or making the quarrels up,’ said Anne, getting somewhat pink in the face, whereupon Diana burst out giggling. ‘Don’t _snicker_ , Di. I assure being in love is not by far as fun as you’d think. Half the time’s one’s desperate and unhappy, the other half downright mad with rage.’

Diana shot her a reproving glance. ‘You’re always talking nonsense like this, Anne, and yet I don’t believe you ever mean it. I think you would not be at all so very ready to joke about these things if you were not certain of Gilbert’s feelings for you.’

‘Don’t get so righteous,’ Anne countered, smiling defensively, but sobered out of flippancy by Diana’s genuine disapproval. ‘If it makes you happy, I don’t mind admitting I am quite incapable of imagining a life without him, however much he annoys me.’

As she said that, she realised that it was more than true – they were forever going to extremes and no one had the power Gilbert did to make her angry, but she would not have it any other way.

Diana spoke up, startling Anne out of her momentary abstraction.

‘I meant what I said earlier, Anne. I don’t believe any other girl has anything like as much distinction in her looks as you do.’

Anne made a funny face at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Well, it would seem that after all borrowed plumes do come in handy sometimes.’

‘Your dress _is_ lovely,’ agreed Diana gushingly. ‘You never said anything about buying it, you sly creature! But,’ she went on, to Anne’s relief expecting no answer to the former accusation, ‘you won’t change my mind about your looks. There’s something in the way you carry yourself which makes us other girls look provincial by your side.’

At such a far-fetched proposition, Anne could only laugh, and further argument was cut short by Marilla’s coming in to hurry them along with a warning that unless they made haste, they were certain of being unpardonably late.

 

***

 

Immediately behind the threshold of the town hall they were greeted by Moody; who, upon taking in Diana’s appearance in full evening toilette, became pale with the realisation that it really was his luck to spend the evening in the company of _such_ a girl.

Diana, however, was in all probability the least intimidating person present, and an encouraging smile and a few kind words from her were enough to bring Moody back to his senses enough to be able to carry her off towards the part of the room where refreshments of various kinds were laid out invitingly upon a couple of long wooden tables.

Anne, having divested herself of her rather incongruously practical coat, looked round in the hope of confirming herself in the piously wished-for fact of Charles Sloane’s absence.

As she did so, her eyes encountered Gilbert’s.

He was standing some distance away, surrounded by a group of their schoolmates and looking so extremely grown-up in the evening suit he was wearing that it took her a moment to realise it really _was_ him; and, as their gazes interlocked, the expression which crossed his face made Anne colour, and she wished she could afford to wear dresses like the one she did now on a daily basis.

She made to move towards the place where Gilbert and the others were gathered, but before she had taken three steps Ruby appeared by his side, looking truly beautiful and much more mature than her fifteen years.

At the same time, Anne felt someone touch her on the shoulder, and turned to see Charlie goggling down at her out of an extremely self-satisfied face.

‘Charlie!’ she exclaimed, barely able to hide her dismay.

‘Good evening, Anne,’ he said with a solemnity particularly ill-fitted to his squeaky voice. ‘You’re looking well.’

Anne bit her lip. ‘So are _you_. I was— _afraid_ you wouldn’t be able to make it. I’ve heard you had a cold.’

Charlie half-shut his eyes with the expression of martyred bravery. ‘Indeed I did. But I assure you it’s not of the _putrid_ kind. It’s thus perfectly safe for you to associate with me tonight.’

At this moment, music began, and Anne was relieved to be spared from having to make a reply to Charlie’s divulgations by his offering her his arm and leading her towards the centre of the room. She had no expectation of pleasure from dancing with him, but at least he would be too occupied by placing his feet in exactly the right way to talk about putrid colds.

She did her best not to look Gilbert and Ruby’s way beyond ascertaining that, in compliance both with his promise to herself and Ruby’s ardent wishes, he didn’t refuse to join in dancing. However, even the little she saw was enough to assure her that they were, without a doubt, the best-looking couple in the room, and that they danced with an ease to which no other pair could possibly aspire.

All in all, they seemed perfectly matched in every possible respect.

The reflection was not comforting.

After the first two dances were over, Anne thought she had endured enough pomposity for the moment, and informed her partner of her intention to step outside for a moment and breathe in some fresh air.

What she had not calculated on was Charlie saying promptly,

‘Let us go then, Anne. Ladies first.’

This was bad, but presently it got worse.

As soon as the town hall doors were closed on the noise within and they had stepped into the pleasant, cool dusk outside, she heard Charlie say something that made her think he must have taken complete leave of his senses.

‘Anne, I know how much you are set upon continuing your education at Queen’s Academy, and although there is absolutely no need or reason for you to waste your time in acquiring skills you can have no possible chance of utilising in your life as a married woman, I am willing to let you please yourself on that head.’

He paused, expecting Anne hardly knew _what_ – perhaps some expression of her acquiescence in his words. When that did not come, and before she could command her bewildered mind enough to endeavour to stop him, he went on,

‘I am willing to wait the two years the course is going to last. That time will be spent by me in learning the ways of my managing my father’s property, and I hope that at the end of that period, you will consent to become Mrs Charles Sloane.’

All this was spoken in tones of perfect assurance and with no visible doubt as to its reception.

However, when instead of replying Anne merely continued to stare at him mutely, he began to fidget.

‘Well, Anne?’ he prompted with some impatience.

Anne opened her mouth, closed it again, took a deep breath, and then said with as much composure as she could muster,

‘Charlie, I have no idea what reason you have to assume I would want to marry you. I don’t believe I’ve _ever_ , in _any_ possible way, encouraged you to think I cared about you like that.’

He smiled in such an indulgently superior way that Anne had much ado keeping herself from kicking him in the shin.

‘Of course,’ he said with an odious sort of assured forbearance, ‘you are surprised. I do not blame you. You must feel what a great thing it would be for you to connect yourself with the Sloane family. Perhaps you fear that you may not be received quite readily by all its members, but I undertake to—‘

‘Charlie, wait a moment,’ Anne interrupted, barely able to get the words out because of the anger which was threatening to choke her. ‘Please, don’t let either of us say anything more. The idea is absurd.’

‘Of course, it would seem to be asking much of my kin to accept into their ranks a person of unknown origin and next to no fortune, but—‘

‘ _Charles Sloane_ ,’ said Anne in a voice which was more like a hiss. ‘If you do not wish to provoke me to do something we might both regret, I kindly ask you to stop offending me _right now_. I’m sure you feel very heroic for being willing to take the risk of marrying an outcast like myself, but the effort will not be required. I wish you goodnight.’

This speech, coupled with the fact that she actually turned away from him to go back inside, finally succeeded in breaking through Charlie’s self-assurance.

‘Anne,’ he said with some urgency, catching hold of her sleeve. ‘ _Perhaps_ I spoke too early. Maybe you feel that you are too young to commit yourself, but—‘

‘We are _both_ too young,’ she snapped, snatching her hand away. ‘No person of mature understanding could speak to me the way you have just done.’

‘But in two years’ time—‘

‘Nothing will change. Charlie,’ she went on a little less sternly, eager to seize at the chance to avoid making bad blood if possible. ‘I do not intend to get married after I leave Queen’s. I want to keep studying. I want to go to Redmond, if I can.’

A look of decided malice, which Anne disliked even more than his usual superciliousness, crept into Charlie’s face.

‘To Redmond? _With Blythe_?’

 Anne stared. ‘How is that relevant? Of course he’ll go if he—‘

‘ _He_ ’ll go wherever _you_ go,’ Charlie interrupted sneeringly. ‘To make sure no one else gets to have you. But he’s fooling both himself and you. He knows – _everyone knows_ – he can never afford to marry a penniless, parentless girl. He needs money and family connections to get on in his profession. And the Gillis’s neat little fortune is his for the asking.’

By clenching her fists so tight the nails pressed into the soft skin of her inner palms, Anne managed to keep herself from slapping his hateful face. She was turning once more towards the door when he stopped her again by saying,

‘Can you deny that he has talked you into an understanding between the two of you?’

She gave him a cold look over her shoulder.

‘I can and I do,’ she said curtly. ‘And if you ever dare speak to _or_ about me in this way again, I’ll have no scruples telling my guardian all about it, and _she_ can make sure you’ll regret it, if _I_ can’t.’

He spat out a short laugh.

‘It’s _you_ who’ll regret it, Anne Shirley,’ he said maliciously, and seemed about to go on, but Anne, her hands shaking so much she had some difficulty in doing it, had opened the door and gone inside, shutting it behind her with a decisive movement.

She was aware that she must be visibly upset, but for the moment her only thought was to _find Gilbert_. She had no idea what she was going to say to him, or what she wanted him to tell her; she only knew that until she was with him and away from this horrid place, she could not possibly even begin to try to calm down.

She walked quickly through the short passage and entered the main room in the center of which dancing was still going on.

And then she stood stock still in incredulous shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles Dickens could not outdo my cliffhanger here, could he? :D


	19. I thought there was some kind of magic, but there’s just well-executed tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all I can say is, I hope you don't hate me too much for what happens in here :D

When Gilbert saw Anne walk into the room, he was momentarily incapable of believing that she was really, in some sense of the word at least, _his_.

It was not really the way she looked – she always was beautiful to him, and besides he was quite incapable of comparing her looks to anyone else’s – although the sight of her in the new dress _did_ take his breath away. But what struck him more forcibly was the thought that nobody else in the room was as close as the two of them, and that somehow they were years older, wiser, and more experienced than all the rest.

He saw her face light up when she met his eyes, and she moved in his direction as though drawn by some invisible thread; but suddenly he felt a light touch on his arm, and a silvery voice close beside him said,

‘Hello, Gilbert.’

With effort, he took his eyes away from Anne and looked down to see Ruby smile at him with dazzling radiance.

‘Hi,’ he smiled back. Then, vaguely perceiving that she was dressed in a profusion of some dark pink material, he added rather haphazardly, wishing only to be able to switch his attention back to Anne, ‘You look really nice, Ruby.’

Ruby beamed and looked even prettier, and Gilbert thought himself entitled to glance again in Anne’s direction.

Unfortunately, she was no longer on her way to him, but instead stood attending with a look of almost comically ill-hidden dismay to something which Charlie Sloane, looking very much like an undertaker in his exceedingly solemn, correct evening clothes, was saying to her.

Gilbert was perfectly aware of Anne’s unfavorable opinion of Charlie, but it was nonetheless a trying spectacle to see the latter offer her his arm with his perfectly self-satisfied air. Being a thorough mutt, Charles was sure to draw the most flattering conclusions from Anne’s consenting to be his partner, however ungraciously she may fulfill the role.

The reflection was not calculated to put Gilbert at his ease.

He knew, however, that he was expected to be as pleasant as possible towards Ruby, and he promptly asked her to dance, which she accepted with a look of such adoration that he felt rather uncomfortable, and ashamed of his own dishonesty.

Still, it was rather late to do anything but repent of the ill-advisedness of the whole scheme in silence, and he danced and chatted with Ruby for the next half-hour with as much cheerfulness as he could compass.

He kept the corner of his eye constantly on the lookout for the corner of the room Charlie was submitting Anne to the torture of going through his particularly intricate dance moves; but when, after the first two dances, Ruby led him towards the refreshment tables, he noticed with annoyance that neither one of the other pair was anywhere in sight.

He turned his eyes back towards Ruby to see her blush rather excessively, and was at once uneasily convinced that she must have said something he’d missed, absorbed as he was in his bleak cogitations.

Judging it to be the safest answer to whatever she might have said or asked, he smiled down at her in what he hoped was a perfectly friendly way.

Whereupon, to his infinite surprise and shock, Ruby reached up and _kissed him on the lips_.

Aware that they were probably gaped at by the whole room, he put his hands on her shoulders and, as gently as he could, broke the caress off.

In the periphery of his field of vision, he saw Diana rush out of the room with Moody following close upon her heels.

‘Oh, Gilbert,’ he heard Ruby say at the same moment with an, of all things, triumphantly coquettish giggle, ‘I _knew_ it would happen tonight!’

 

***

 

Anne rushed out of the front door, aware of Diana’s voice calling after her, but yet more strongly aware of a very distinct wish not to be forced for the moment to speak to, or even to see, anybody.

She had seen Ruby reach up and kiss Gilbert, and she had seen his hands go up to, no doubt, pull her closer.

She had seen no more, having turned away immediately, but _that_ was quite enough to prove that Gilbert was not, after all, so completely indifferent to a pretty face – nor to the possibility of securing the Gillis’ “neat little fortune”.

And it was she herself who, through her misguided efforts at guarding her friend from disappointment, had brought all this about. This, perhaps, was the worst of the whole affair, the bitterest pill to swallow.

As she groped her way into the deeper shadows in the hope of evading her well-meaning but unwelcome friend, a hand was suddenly clasped tightly over her mouth, and then someone half-pushed, half-pulled her beyond the corner of the building where a small unused stable stood looming in the dark.

Barely able as yet to gather presence of mind enough to even begin to struggle, she found herself hauled inside and pushed against the nearest wall.

Then a match was struck and a candle lit and, holding it high up in her hand so that it illuminated both her own face and that of her accomplice, Josie Pye came up to where Billy Andrews stood clutching Anne by the arm with such vicious force she could feel the lower part of it begin to go numb.

‘Look who we have here,’ Josie hissed with a horrid grin. ‘Look at her dress! How do you think she’s paid for it, the penniless orphan?’

‘In kind, no doubt,’ the boy said with a lascivious look in his eyes which made Anne feel even sicker than did his foul words. ‘Like the little slut she is. You can see “whore” written all over that filthy little face.’

Josie laughed a quiet, malicious laugh. ‘It’s in her blood, you know. To look at the airs she’s giving herself, she’s probably descended from a brothel-keeper. It’s a good thing Gilbert wants to be a doctor, as he’s likely to catch all sorts of nasty diseases from his little girlfriend.’

Anne, who had been trying for some time now to free herself from Billy’s grasp, had managed at last to dislodge the hand which was clamped over her mouth, and she instantly shrieked,

‘Help! Help me! Help—‘

Billy struck her a vicious slap on the cheek, and then, fairly choking her as he grabbed hold of her throat, he spat out,

‘You bitch! You want me to give you a real reason to scream?’

At that, however, Josie, who was vile to the bone but not actually amoral enough to connive at what Billy appeared to be proposing, frowned a little, and said hurriedly,

‘Come on, Billy, we’ve given her warning enough. She’ll know better than to go around telling lies in the future.’

Billy looked reluctant to let Anne go, but Josie seemed suddenly very much resolved on getting away.

‘I said, come on,’ she repeated impatiently, tugging at his coat. ‘Let’s go before someone finds us. And,’ she added with a scowl in Anne’s direction, ‘I’m sure you’ll be too wise to broadcast this little adventure. You _know_ your word means nothing against ours.’

With that, they both disappeared into the shadows.

Anne, totally unnerved – not from pain or fear, but rather with sheer anger that such horrid things _would_ keep happening to her – was momentarily incapable of forcing herself to move, and simply stood leaning against the wall and staring into the darkness, trying unsuccessfully to steady her furiously beating heart and at the same time wondering why, for what possible sins committed in previous lifetimes, she was doomed to go from one mortification to another so relentlessly.

In a moment, however, she heard a soft, agitated voice calling somewhere close by,

‘Anne? Anne!’

Footsteps approached through the darkness, and then Diana exclaimed,

‘Oh my God, Anne, what’s happened to you? Moody!’ she called over her shoulder, ‘come on in here! Oh my God, Anne, are you ill? What is wrong?’

Anne tried to speak, but discovered that she couldn’t because of how much her teeth were chattering.

Presently she found herself led by Diana and Moody the back way into the town hall, where, in a small back kitchen, having made her sit down on a low stool, Diana procured some tea for her to drink.

Thus expertly taken care of, Anne was soon able to say with a degree of composure astonishing to herself,

‘Please take me home.’

‘Oh _Anne_ ,’ Diana gasped in evident relief. ‘Thank God you _can_ speak. Still, Moody, you have to go fetch the doctor.’

‘No, no!’ Anne protested, this time with an increase of agitation. ‘No doctor is needed. I really am not hurt.’

‘Not hurt! Anne, your throat—‘

‘It’s nothing. Diana, please, just let Moody walk me home. I need to go home. I _must_ go home.’

‘But are sure you’re not hurt—’

‘I _swear_ I’m not. I just want to go home already. I can’t talk— _not now_ — I’ll explain to you tomorrow. _Please_.’

Diana still looked worried, but gave a quick nod, and then, suddenly struck by the thought, asked,

‘Do you want us to look for Gilbert? He must be worried—‘

‘ _No_!’

The word was uttered so decisively Diana didn’t dare press the subject. All she did was to direct Moody to fetch the coats of all the three of them, and to speak to nobody while he was about it, and avoid all possible notice.

This, however, proved impossible, and after a minute or two’s absence he came back preceded by Gilbert who, at the sight of Anne sitting nursing her bruised throat, went very white and, stepping forward agitatedly, asked,

‘Anne? What’s happened? _What the bloody hell happened_?’

At the same time, Ruby’s voice could be heard calling immediately outside,

‘Gilbert? Are you there? What is going on?’

Ignoring her, Gilbert crouched down in front of the seat Anne was occupying and asked with yet more urgency,

‘Anne? _Who_ did this to you?’

He reached out to touch her hand, but she snatched it away, and at that same moment Ruby entered the room, her eyes widening with surprise at the sight which confronted her.

‘What is— _Anne_? What’s happened? Are you ill?’

With an amount of resolution she was not aware she had it in her to exert, Anne sat up a little straighter and smiled reassuringly at the other girl.

‘It’s nothing, Ruby. All this fuss is quite unnecessary. I feel extremely foolish for causing it. Please, just leave me alone with Diana,’ she transferred her painfully dry eyes onto Gilbert’s bewildered face, ‘ _both of you_.’

‘Anne—‘

‘Gilbert,’ she cut him short with an exaggerated frown, ‘I know your medical instincts are all against passing up such an opportunity of playing the good doctor, but I really don’t require your services. I shall be extremely thankful if you could take Ruby back to the party and stopped making me feel like a helpless idiot.’

He held her gaze a moment longer, his face tense and his eyes searching, but she met his scrutiny with such blank indifference that presently he stood up and said dryly, looking away from everyone present,

‘All right then. I’m sorry for interfering. Come on, Ruby.’

And then they both left the room.

‘Oh, Anne, how _could_ you—’ began Diana, but at that moment Anne’s defences broke down for a moment and upon seeing the look of utter misery which appeared on her friend’s face she broke off, hesitated, and then handed Anne her coat without another word.

Soon, the three of them were on their silent way home.


	20. I’ll be holding all the tickets and you’ll be owing all the fines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is super short, but I wanted to get the day of the party done with before starting the >real< next chapter!

As he made his way back towards the noisy main room, Gilbert wished he could be angry with Anne for the mess she’d landed him in.

However, he was way too worried about her and the, evidently, even greater mess _she_ herself had been involved in to feel resentful, however justified his claims to that sensation might be.

He just wished he could go after her and make her tell him what had happened, and comfort her, and let her know he would always be there for her.

Instead, he was forced to let Ruby cling to his arm and chatter away in a ceaseless kind of way which was steadily coming closer to the point of driving him mad.

He realised perfectly well he had no right to make Ruby miserable simply because he had been fool enough to consent to Anne’s crazy plan, but that knowledge was not quite enough to restore to him his usual self-possession.

He paid less and less attention to what Ruby was saying and doing, until it got to a pitch even she could not ignore.

‘Gilbert, are you listening to me at all?’ she asked somewhat irritably when she had reiterated the same question three times over without eliciting any response.

They were standing in a small alcove by a bow-window whither she’d led him a moment before.

He looked down at her, frowning slightly. ‘Yes?’

‘I asked,’ Ruby said, slowly and emphatically, ‘whether you’d like to come visit me tomorrow afternoon. My parents would be so glad.’

Gilbert stared.

‘Your _parents_?’

Ruby interpreted his bewilderment in the way the most flattering to herself and, adopting once again her gracious manner, said with a sweet, shy smile,

‘Well, you know, they’d like to get to know you better before you—we—make anything public.’

That was it. The folly of what he and Anne had done, the unpardonable falseness of his conduct towards Ruby, the despicableness of thus raising her hopes, hit Gilbert with a force which rendered him incapable of playing pretend any longer.

Before he could stop himself – had he wished to – he said, in a tone meant to convey the perfect common sense of his words,

‘Ruby, there won’t ever _be_ anything to be made public. Not between you and me. I’m sorry.’

Ruby’s face went momentarily blank.

‘I’m sorry,’ Gilbert repeated, striving to sound more gentle. ‘I just don’t want you to deceive yourself any longer.’

‘Deceive myself?’ Ruby said, her eyes widening in horror. ‘Do you mean you don’t care for me _in the least_?’

‘I do like you very much, Ruby, but only as a friend,’ he said simply. ‘I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.’

‘As a _friend_?’ she reiterated, her voice rising to a shrill wail. ‘And is that why we’re together here? Because you like me _as a friend_?’

‘Yes,’ Gilbert said shortly.

He was very sorry for Ruby: the signs of misery on her face were genuine enough. He was also as ashamed of himself as he had not had reason to be in a long time.

But he at the same time he felt that this ridiculous farce had to be put an end to as speedily and as unequivocally as possible.

Ruby was silent for a moment, staring straight at him while two enormous tears, looking almost artificial, welled up in her eyes and slid down her smooth round cheeks.

She looked exactly like a child deprived of her favorite toy.

Gilbert felt awful.

Then she asked, hiccoughing slightly on her sobs,

‘Is it because you care for someone else? Is that why you won’t even _try_ caring for me?’

He considered telling a lie, and knew that Anne would probably want him to; but, since it was complying with Anne’s wishes even when he felt them to be completely unreasonable that got him into his present unenviable situation, he decided against it.

‘I do care for someone else,’ he said with a small shrug. ‘I have for a long time now, and I don’t think it’ll ever change.’

Ruby began crying with redoubled force.

‘Who _is_ she?’ she asked with dramatic emphasis.

This time, Gilbert didn’t hesitate. It was not his secret to tell, at least not wholly so. ‘I can’t tell you that, Ruby. Please,’ he added with an attempt at lightening up the mood as she went on sobbing rather hysterically into her lace-frilled handkerchief, ‘don’t cry. I would make you a really terrible suitor. I’m poor, and I have years of studies to get through. You’d get bored to death waiting around for me. It wouldn’t be worth it.’

This well-meant speech, however, met with an unforeseeably bad response. Looking up with her tear-stained face distorted by a miserable frown, Ruby exclaimed indignantly,

‘You’ve broken my heart, Gilbert Blythe!’

and then, still dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, she moved away and out of his sight.


	21. it feels just like I’m walking on broken glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :O :D  
> thank you to everyone who keeps reading & commenting & putting up with my and these absurd children's nonsense!

Anne awoke on Sunday morning with a headache so severe she fortunately had no need to imperil Marilla’s faith in her honesty and try to angle out of going to church on false pretenses.

She looked so genuinely wretched there was no doubt, even to her guardian’s skeptical mind, of the legitimacy of her claim to staying at home.

‘The last thing I wish for is that Rachel Lynde should see you in this state,’ said Marilla with a displeased frown as she watched Anne sitting slouched over the breakfast she was making no attempts at eating. ‘She would say I let you run yourself down in the most frivolous way, and she would have been right, too. I hope that at least you’ve enjoyed yourself.’

‘Yes,’ said Anne without raising her eyes. ‘I have.’

‘Humph!’ said Marilla in a tone of deep disapproval. ‘Well, all I can say is, I hope next time you’ll know better than to stay out till all hours, and probably without touching a morsel of food all evening and drinking punch on an empty stomach.’

‘ _Punch_?’ repeated Anne with some amusement, looking up. ‘We’ve not had any punch, Marilla. This party was a school affair. There were literal children there, girls as young as fourteen. It was all as prim and proper as you could imagine, and there were masses of food. I suppose,’ she finished with a slight frown, ‘that this kind of thing simply doesn’t agree with me.’

‘I shall remind you of that the next time you beg me to let you go out,’ replied Marilla tersely, putting on her coat and hat. ‘Eat up, child, and then go back to bed and get some sleep.’

‘I will.’

Marilla made a face expressive of deep disbelief. Then she left.

 

***

 

Anne did go back to bed, and lay there in a state of apathy she had no willpower to shake off.

She felt like last night had been a bad dream, and some corner of her mind kept expecting that if she indeed went to sleep she would open her eyes to learn that the dance had not yet taken place, and everything could be made right in time.

However, when she did again become aware of her surroundings it was to see Marilla standing in the doorway with the disapproving face she’d been wearing ever since Anne came home last night in an evident state of both mental and physical exhaustion.

She sat up, asking in an attempt at making conversation,

‘How was church?’

‘Less crowded than usual,’ was the grim reply. ‘I believe at least half your friends were absent.’

‘Really?’ asked Anne anxiously.

‘Yes. The Pye girls and Ruby Gillis weren’t there.’

Anne stared. Ruby Gillis miss out on an opportunity of showing off her Sunday finery! And after a night of such triumphs too! It was simply inexplicable.

‘Neither was Charles Sloane,’ went on Marilla.

‘Charlies Sloane is _not_ my friend,’ Anne countered rather hotly. ‘He is an odious creature, and I detest the very sound of his name.’

Marilla looked confused. ‘Indeed, Anne, I thought you were quite past bearing such childish grudges. What has the poor boy done to deserve such a harsh dismissal? It seems to me he’s always been very polite to you.’

‘Polite!’ Anne scoffed, and then, making a visible effort to control her temper, said haughtily, ‘Pray don’t let’s talk about him anymore. It makes me want to _scream_.’

At the manner in which this was spoken, a faint glint of amusement shone in Marilla’s eyes. However, she went on in the same stern voice, ‘What about Gilbert Blythe?’

‘ _What_ about him?’ Anne asked with ill-feigned indifference, feeling herself blush. ‘Was _he_ absent from church as well?’

‘Oh, no. I would be very much surprised indeed if that had been the case.’

The laudatory tones in which this was spoken stung Anne into saying bitterly, ‘Certainly, that would have been _quite_ inconceivable, the paragon of virtue that he is.’

She regretted her little outburst instantly, for Marilla, giving her a sharp look, asked bluntly,

‘Have you two quarrelled again, Anne?’

‘Quarrelled?’ Anne repeated, looking down at her hands. ‘Nonsense. Of course we haven’t. We don’t ever really quarrel these days.’

Marilla’s eyebrows went just the slightest bit up. ‘Well, he _did_ look wretched enough today. But I suppose it’s to be expected if neither one of you two had the common sense to leave that dance at a decent hour.’

‘We—I mean, I didn’t come back with Gilbert,’ Anne said, prompted to make the confession by some inexplicable impulse. ‘He stayed out later than me. I came back with Diana and Moody Spurgeon.’ She looked up and, disliking the way Marilla was looking at her, asked quickly, ‘Have you seen them at church?’

‘Moody Spurgeon? That clumsy, stuttering one? Is he such friends with Diana Barry as to be walking her home?’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘He was walking us _both_ home, Marilla. And he really is an extremely nice person. So—so quiet and comfortable to have around in an emergency.’

Marilla stared. ‘ _What_ emergency?’

Anne’s heart sunk. ‘Any. Any emergency,’ she said evasively. ‘You know, speaking hypothetically.’

‘I see,’ said Marilla dryly. And then went on with appalling persistence, ‘But what about Gilbert? Why didn’t he go home with the rest of you?’

‘He—he had other engagements.’

Anne could feel Marilla watching her, and dared not look up for fear her eyes belied the forced composure of her voice.

‘Well, one way or another,’ she heard the older woman say presently, ‘that’s that. I’m glad that foolishness is over. Now you can settle down properly to your studies once again, and not be always walking around as if you were in a daze, as you’ve been doing these past few weeks.’

And before Anne could think of an appropriate reply to that imputation, she was left alone in the room, whereupon she lied down and began, very quietly, to cry.   

 

***    

 

The midday meal passed off better than breakfast in that Anne was by too hungry for misery, however acute, to prevent her from eating a creditable amount. Outwardly, she strove as much as her still sore head allowed her not to show any signs of perturbation or sorrow, and succeeded well enough to prevent Marilla from asking any more questions about last night and its supposed profusion of joys.

As, having helped Marilla wash up, she prepared to steal upstairs again, she was prevented from doing so by a decided, sharp knock on the door. Marilla being somewhere out back feeding the leftovers to the chickens, Anne had no alternative but to open the door herself and confront the scrutiny of Mrs Lynde – who, considering the day and the hour, she had no doubt had to be the originator of the demanding summons.

She composed her face into a mask of polite indifference, pulled the door open, and was confronted by the sight of an ominously purpose-driven looking Gilbert Blythe.


	22. her eyes and words are so icy // oh, but she burns like rum on the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aahaha how long can I drag this on, y'all ask? FOR EVER apparently

Upon seeing Gilbert, Anne’s mind momentarily became void of all that had been weighing on it for the past twenty hours and, unwittingly, she leant a little forward, irresistibly drawn by an instinctual need to be closer to him.

At that movement, though it was almost imperceptible, his face lost all its grimness, and he made as if to take her hands in his.

‘Anne? Marilla? Hullo? _Anne_!’

They started apart, and Anne looked towards the direction whence the insistent voice came. At the gate, some fifty meters away, Mrs Lynde was standing holding a giant soup tureen in her arms.

‘Gilbert Blythe? Is that you?’ the worthy matron queried, discerning the second figure standing by the door. ‘Come on here, boy, and help an old woman, won’t you?’

Gilbert’s eyes were still glued to Anne’s face, and he seemed not to have heard.

‘Go, for God’s sake,’ Anne hissed at him through closed teeth. ‘And act _normal_.’

He nodded curtly, and she stood motionless watching him go down the yard, open the gate, take Mrs Lynde’s burden out of her arms, and follow her back up the path to the front door.

‘Look at you, young lady,’ Mrs Lynde said by way of hello, her sharp eyes scrutinising Anne’s pale face with a look of deep disapproval. ‘You’re bent on worrying your benefactress to death, I see.’

Anne smiled. ‘I’ve nothing the matter with me save a headache,’ she said as amiably as she could, unsettled as she was by Gilbert’s silent proximity.

‘Ah! That!‘ Mrs Lynde waved the headache aside with a deprecating hand. ‘ _That’_ s not what I meant. Of course, I’ve always thought you shockingly sickly-looking, and today you seem positively _consumptive_. But that is _not_ what I was talking about.’

‘It isn’t?’ Anne forced herself to ask politely, internally wondering why something hasn’t yet been done towards isolating interfering old ladies from the rest of the population.

They had by now gone into the house, and Gilbert, having deposited Mrs Lynde’s soup tureen on the table, stood leaning against it with his arms crossed on his chest. Anne could feel his eyes on herself, but resolutely kept them turned towards Mrs Lynde.

That worthy lady, having divested herself of her coat, said emphatically,

‘No. I meant something much more serious. Something that, as Lydia Pye tells me, came to pass yesterday.’

‘Yesterday?’ Anne repeated uncertainly. What could Josie’s mother have possibly been saying? Surely even Josie was not fool enough to go around bragging about bullying her schoolmates?

Mrs Lynde nodded gravely, but remained silent.

‘Well, what is it?’ Anne prompted with some impatience. Really, Mrs Lynde was quite insufferable.

‘Wouldn’t you rather we talked in private?’ Rachel Lynde countered, looking significantly towards the frowning Gilbert.

Before Anne could answer, the back door opened and Marilla came in.

‘Hello, Rachel,’ she said briskly. ‘What brings you here?’ Then, noticing Gilbert, she added with some surprise and a smile, ‘Oh, hello, Gilbert.’

‘Good morning, Miss Cuth—‘

‘Marilla,’ Mrs Lynde cut in decisively, ‘it is in the spirit of neighbourly goodwill that I permit myself to intrude upon your Sabbath leisure.’

Marilla lifted her eyebrows coolly. ‘Yes?’ Her eyes strayed towards the table. ‘Oh, Rachel, it is exceedingly good of you to have brought us your famous stew again, but really you oughtn’t to—‘

‘The stew,’ Rachel interrupted again, getting more solemn by the second, ‘was only an excuse for Thomas’s benefit. It is to inform you about—‘ she paused again, and again looked meaningfully in Gilbert’s direction.

Anne was feeling increasingly irritated by the air of mystery with Mrs Lynde was doing her best to spread, and put in impulsively,

‘Apparently, Josie Pye has been telling her mother some new lies about me, and they are of such a nature as to make Mrs Lynde hesitate to repeat them in front of,’ she paused, and went on with palpable sarcasm, ‘a representative of the opposite sex. But there’s no need to be so circumspect. Whatever it is, it is certain to be known all over Avonlea by tomorrow. Gilbert may as well learn it now, and at least have the benefit of hearing it disproved directly.’

‘You are very sure of yourself, young lady,’ observed Mrs Lynde dryly.

‘That’s the advantage of having a clear conscience,’ Anne countered thoughtlessly.

Here Marilla clicked her tongue disapprovingly, and said calmly,

‘Anne, kindly watch your words. Rachel, out with it.’

‘Very well,’ said Mrs Lynde in a “you’ve-brought-this-on-yourselves” tone of voice. ‘What I came to inform you about, Marilla, is that your—that a marriage proposal was made to Anne last night.’

There was a moment of complete silence as the words died triumphantly away.

Anne felt rather as though she had missed a step while walking down the stairs. She kept her eyes glued to the same spot, which was away from everyone else’s faces, and waited for - she hardly knew _what_.

‘Anne, is this true?’ asked Marilla eventually, her voice exaggeratedly calm.

Anne looked up and met Gilbert’s eyes. His face was curiously blank, and he stared back into her eyes immovably.

‘Yes,’ said Anne quietly.

Gilbert’s brows contracted ever so slightly.

Anne transferred her gaze to Marilla, who looked incredulous.

‘Who from?’ she asked somewhat weakly.

‘Charlie.’

Another moment of absolute silence.

‘Charles Sloane?’ queried Marilla with a frown. ‘Has the boy gone crazy?’

A wave of relief rolled over Anne.

‘Oh, Marilla!’ she said fervently, clasping her hands and moving towards the older woman. ‘Thank you for looking at it in _this_ way!’

‘Marilla,’ Mrs Lynde spoke up, ‘I think it is my duty to point out to you what a splendid opportunity this girl has thrown away in refusing that offer. The Sloanes are an extremely respectable, well-to-do family, and—‘

‘Rachel,’ Marilla interrupted firmly, ‘Heaven be praised, I am not as yet so senile as to wish Anne married to a coxcomb like Charles Sloane.’

‘She may not have another such offer—‘

‘Pray God she mightn’t!’

‘Or any offer indeed. Consider who she is—‘

Here Anne, who had again gathered courage enough to look towards Gilbert, and saw that he was on the verge of opening his mouth and saying something foolish and angry which would get them both into no end of further trouble, felt desperate enough to interfere.

‘Marilla, Mrs Lynde!’ she interposed, speaking with such dramatic resolution that she managed to make both the increasingly agitated old ladies look at her and keep momentary peace. ‘I really must insist on your leaving off discussing this subject in front of me. Feel free, however, to say whatever you please in my absence. I can hardly feel more degraded by the whole situation than I already do.’

Then turning to Gilbert she said, in spite of herself, somewhat constrainedly, ‘Come on upstairs. We’ll find the notes for tomorrow’s test sooner if you help me look for them.’

And she marched on towards the staircase without ascertaining whether he followed her. However, her haughtily emphatic speech had caused complete silence to fall once again on the kitchen, and she could hear his steps distinctly enough.


	23. I didn't flinch and the lights didn't flicker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really have nothing to say about or for this chapter, and this fact indeed speaks for itself

Anne crossed straight to the window and stood leaning against the sill with her back towards the room, looking out at the surrounding empty fields without, for the first time since she arrived at Green Gables, really seeing anything.

She heard Gilbert close the door quietly, and then there was perfect silence for some moments.

She realised suddenly that she was actually holding her breath. That’s how impossibly high-strung her nerves had become.

The thought made her let out, quite against her will, a somewhat hysterical little laugh. She stifled it by pressing her hand to her mouth, and turned around to see Gilbert standing right by the door and looking at her with furrowed brows.

‘Sorry,’ she said with a slight frown, the seriousness in his eyes making her feel vaguely ashamed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just so— _exhausted_.’

As she said this she sat down on the edge of her bed, and feeling the pain throb through her head with renewed intensity pressed one palm against her forehead.

Gilbert stood looking on in silence.

‘Are you ill?’ he asked eventually, his voice even but oddly hollow.

‘No,’ Anne said vaguely. ‘Only, I didn’t really sleep much last night.’ Then, looking up, she asked bluntly, ‘But you’ve come here for a purpose, haven’t you? What is it?’

Disregarding her question, he met it with one of his own. ‘Did you at all mean to tell me about—about—‘ he hesitated, frowning. ‘About you and Charlie? Or do I owe the pleasure of knowledge to Mrs Lynde’s importunity?’

Anne instantly resented the implied accusation of intended secrecy and, sitting up a little straighter, replied haughtily,

‘And pray tell me, Mr Righteous, what would be the use of my trying to hide it? Josie’s going to take care everyone in town knows all about it by tomorrow morning. And anyway,’ she went on, heating up by the second, ‘ _you’re_ hardly the person to lecture me. I’m actually surprised Ruby hasn’t advertised her joyful news to the world at large yet.’

As she uttered the last words, her self-control broke down a little, and she looked away from Gilbert, unwilling to show him how hurt she really was.

There was another pause, and then he said curtly, ‘Ruby may be busy spreading gossip about me, but it’s not likely to show me in a favourable light.’

Anne looked up, wide-eyed. Gilbert met her inquiring gaze with a shrug.

‘I told her that there was not the least chance of our ever getting together. She didn’t take it well.’

‘But—‘ Anne stammered, scanning his face in bewilderment, ‘I saw you kiss her—‘

This time, patent confusion broke through Gilbert’s assumed coolness of manner. ‘ _What_? That’s not possible—I mean, she did try to kiss me, but I broke away immediately. You _must have_ seen that, if you saw anything.’

‘I _didn’t_ ,’ Anne said, furious colour rising to her cheeks. ‘I only saw—I _thought_ I saw you pull her closer—I—‘ she put her face in her hands, unable to withstand the expression of his face.

‘Is that how much trust you have in me, then?’ he asked, and she gave an inward shudder at the disappointment in his tone. ‘You don’t really believe anything I’ve ever told you, do you?’

‘It’s not that—‘ Anne said, rising agitatedly to her feet. ‘It’s just that I—Charlie said—‘

‘Oh, yes, by all means let us hear what Charlie said,’ Gilbert cut in with a sneer.

At that, Anne’s contrition was immediately replaced by anger.

‘He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, anyway!’ she said viciously. ‘At least he doesn’t pretend things are different than they are just because—Oh, if you _will_ make faces at me!’ she exclaimed, the cool way in which he lifted his eyebrows annihilating her already extremely slight grasp on her temper. ‘Really, Gilbert, there is no use in our talking about it—you will _never_ admit that you may be wrong—‘

‘Wrong? Wrong about what?’

‘About _everything_ —‘

‘Now you’re just acting hysterical—‘

‘Gilbert,’ she said, drawing a deep breath in an attempt to prove his last statement wrong, ‘Do you realise how _desperately_ poor I am?’

Gilbert stared.

‘What has that got to do with anything?’ he asked, startled out of his irritation.

‘This farm is mortgaged—I don’t know if we’ll every be able to pay off the amount that’s been loaned on it—‘

Gilbert came up to her slowly, a frown of concern on his face. ‘Anne,’ he said, speaking more gently than he had done yet, ‘I realise this must be very difficult to you, but I still fail to see how that has any bearing on—on _us_.’

She looked up into his anxious eyes, and her face was pale now. ‘Well, it means that if we ever—if I were ever to get married, I would not be able to bring in a dowry – not a broken penny,’ she said with a small, unconvincing smile.

Gilbert blinked rapidly. ‘ _So_?’

Anne sighed. ‘You’ll need money, Gil. To buy a practice. And it would be helpful if you married someone who knew the right people – who could help you on—‘

‘Money? Help me on?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘Anne, it’s you who’s got it all wrong. I never even thought—‘ he winced, ‘about money—your money—or the lack of it—in this way. I don’t want money – not yours, not anybody’s. _I only want_ _you_.’

He spoke the last four word with such urgent emphasis Anne had a hard time keeping herself from throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him breathless.

Unfortunately, she was resolved to have this argument out, and so went on with forced composure,

‘It’s not about what you _think_ you want. It’s about what you _need_.’

‘And Charles Sloane says I need to marry a rich, well-connected girl, and has convinced you to think the same,’ he countered dryly. ‘I never thought you’d let _him_ be the judge in such a matter.’

Anne recognised the justice of his words, but it only served to incise her further, and she replied in an accusatory manner of which she was instantly ashamed,

‘Well, he turns out to be a pretty good judge after all, since the first thing I saw when I went back was you with—with _her_!’

At that, Gilbert’s expression grew rather hard.

Anne was genuinely frightened at the turn she was making this conversation take and wished to somehow make amends for the foolish words she’d just uttered, but the way he was looking at her right now made her momentarily unable to speak.

‘I told you I did everything I could to stop her,’ he said slowly and constrainedly. ‘Don’t you believe me? Or – or are you doing this on purpose?’

He did not really deep down believe that this might at all be the case, but he was seriously offended and angry at what he thought of as Anne’s unjust resentment of a situation which had come about precisely and only because he had acted as she’d wished him to.

‘On purpose?’ Anne repeated with bewilderment. ‘What do you mean?‘

‘I don’t know,’ Gilbert replied with an awful kind of deliberation, ‘maybe it doesn’t seem to you like a profitable idea to bind yourself to someone like me now that you know for a fact you can do better. There is no reason why you should choose to wait for me when you can induce practically anyone you want to make you a proposal—‘

Anne’s face went an ashen kind of pale, and he broke off, both disgusted with himself for saying such things and appalled at the effect they had on her.

What he could not know was that to her mind they had a ghastly kind of relation to the odious aspersions Billy and Josie had been casting on her the day before, and that whereas she didn’t in the least care about their opinion, the thought that Gilbert could think of her in such a way – as an unprincipled being who _induced_ people to marry her – made her physically sick.

‘Anne,’ he resumed hurriedly with a desperate plea in his voice, taking a step towards her. ‘Anne, I’m sorry. I don’t why I said that. I know it’s not true.’

He reached out to touch her rigid arm, but before she could react either by saying or doing anything further Marilla’s voice called out from downstairs,

‘Anne? Are you two all right? Have you found whatever it was you wanted?’

There was a heartbeat of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes.

‘Anne—‘ Gilbert whispered urgently, his fingers closing round her arm.

‘Yes!’ Anne called back, her eyes all the while fixed on his, stonily. ‘We’re coming, Marilla!’

‘Anne,’ he pleaded again. ‘Say you forgive me.’

‘Yes,’ she replied blankly, not really knowing what she was saying. ‘I do. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry too.’

Her tone, to say nothing of her looks, was to Gilbert somehow ten thousand times worse than even the most unreasonably angry outburst would have been.

‘Let me go,’ she went on quietly, pulling her arm free of his grasp. ‘We must go downstairs.’

And before he could say anything further, she had thrown open the door and stepped out of the room.


	24. who is the lamb and who is the knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love Gilbert B. with all my heart and also i have no pity on him

Gilbert was thus forced follow suit and, putting on a mask of comparative cheerfulness, wish a good day to Marilla and Mrs Lynde and leave, haunted by Anne’s manner to him in their last moments together.

The next morning, which was a Monday, there was no Anne waiting for him at their crossroads meeting-place, and he arrived at the schoolhouse only to watch for her in vain until he was forced to acknowledge that she must have decided to stay at home.

He was aware of the anxious glances thrown his way by Diana, who herself seemed rather less placidly blooming than it was her habit to.

Ruby, in her turn, had red rings around her eyes and looked altogether like a person deeply conscious that a great wrong had been done her.

The rest of the girls were inclined to make knowing faces at one another or, alternately, to fall into fits of surreptitious giggles.

As for the boys, none of them seemed to realise that anything at all unusual had taken place during the weekend save for four exceptions.

Gilbert, obviously, was one.

Moody Spurgeon Macpherson, looking more uncomfortable and thoughtful than he usually did, was another.

Charlie Sloane seated in unshaken, though mute, consciousness of superiority was the third; and Billy Andrews whose face, upon perceiving Anne’s absence, broke out into a vicious grin was the fourth.

The morning classes seemed to Gilbert to drag on eternally, and immediately they were dismissed he left the classroom in search of the peace and quiet he knew he could not find inside it.

As he made his way back once the break was over, he had the misfortune to enter the cloakroom at the same moment as Charlie Sloane.

‘How’s it going, Blythe?’

‘Fine.’

‘You don’t look it, old chap. Beginning to regret that you’ve let the golden opportunity slip through your fingers, eh?’

The confidential manner in which Charlie spoke was positively repulsive to Gilbert.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said curtly, meaning to move on.

To his annoyance, Charlie stopped him by actually laying hold of his sleeve.

‘Just a minute, Blythe. A small question. Is it true that you’re resolved not to avail yourself of the advantages so generously offered you by a certain young lady belonging to our school?’

Gilbert looked at him in pointed disgust. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Charlie. I’m going in.’

Charlie’s ears reddened.

‘What I mean is, am I to understand that a person who might wish to try his chances with the young lady alluded to will have no obstacles thrown their way by you?’ he asked, mincing the words out in an awful kind of way.

‘Do whatever you bloody want,’ Gilbert snapped out in exasperation. ‘Just let me go, for God’s sake.’

And he slid out of the cloakroom before Charlie could produce another elaborate sentence.

 

***

 

Gilbert’s private opinion was that no Avonlea girl, not even one as delusional as Ruby, could possibly be silly enough to want to have anything to do with a pompous, conceited fool like Charlie Sloane.

However, as he was leaving the schoolhouse in the afternoon, he saw that same Ruby actually listening to something which that same Charlie was saying to her, and, what was more, listening to it with no signs of impatience or the desire to be quit of him.

He began to suspect he might be wrong.

It might actually be possible that Charlie and Ruby would be attracted to each other, if by nothing else by virtue of one snobbish, egotistic nature recognising another.

That meant Ruby would pine after him, Gilbert, no more.

 _That_ would ease Anne’s mind. It would make her put all the foolish things they’d done behind them and pick up where they left off on Friday evening, before the calamities of Saturday night happened. And before he and she quarrelled and he said those idiotic, thoughtlessly cruel words.

When the day before he set out for Green Gables, he did so first and foremost in order to make Anne tell him what happened to her to when he found her in that back kitchen with Diana looking worried and scared and Moody guiltily secretive.

He hadn’t been sure whether she had seen Ruby kiss him; if she had, he realised she would probably have talked herself into the silliest, worst interpretation possible, but he was nonetheless confident of it all ending well.

Instead, he had been informed that Anne had been proposed to by Charlie, and that it was evidently thought a piece of exceptional folly on her part that she had not accepted.

In consequence of the wretched argument that followed in her bedroom, he had actually forgotten to ask her about whatever trouble she’d gotten herself into on Saturday night. He was extremely angry with himself for being led into quarrelling with her instead of talking everything over in a properly calm and rational manner.

But then, when it came to Anne, it was very rarely possible for Gilbert to be calm and rational.

And the mere thought that a pompous, conceited fool such as Charlie could have the temerity to even raise his eyes to a girl like Anne Shirley made him clench his fists in impotent anger.

It is needless to say what the thought that he himself was not much more deserving of her, save perhaps in the consciousness of being so, made him feel.

Generally, it made him wish he was in a position to give her all that which had been denied her through her years of miserable childhood and the life of financial worries, physical and mental strains she was leading now.

The thought that all he could offer her was the prospect of their one day being poor together rather than apart was not calculated to raise his spirits.

School over for the day, he made his way towards Green Gables more or less as a matter of course, since it was an old-established habit that whenever either of them was absent the other one brought them the day’s notes on the way home.

Although the front door to the house stood wide open neither Marilla nor Matthew were anywhere in sight, and Gilbert, after a moment’s hesitation, proceeded upstairs and knocked on Anne’s door.

‘Come in,’ she called out promptly.

Gilbert opened the door, and for a second his whole world was reduced to the way Anne’s whole face lit up upon seeing him as though nothing wrong had happened. The next moment, however, although she remained smiling, a kind of shadow crept into her eyes, dimming them in a way which made Gilbert’s stomach drop.

However, he made himself meet her smile with one of his own.

‘May I?’ he asked.

‘If you _must_ ,’ she countered in mock exasperation, rolling her eyes as she got up from behind her desk.

He stepped inside and closed the door. As soon as he had, Anne was by his side, her arms around his neck and her pale face upturned towards his.

‘I’m sorry I was so horrid yesterday,’ she said, her cheeks getting a little brighter as she reached up to kiss him softly on the lips.

Gilbert couldn’t keep himself from giving a little sigh of relief as she felt her melt into him in the by now deliciously familiar, but nonetheless thrilling way.

So he had not spoiled it all, after all. He really had more luck than he deserved.

‘I love you,’ was all he could say as she broke away. ‘So much. And it’s me who was horrid. But Mrs Lynde rather took me by surprise, you know.’

Anne rolled her eyes again, to his regret disentangling herself from his arms.

‘Trust me, _your_ surprise was nothing to _mine_ when Charlie popped the question,’ she said wryly. ‘I thought I was hallucinating.’

Determined to treat the subject as a joke, Gilbert grinned. ‘I can just imagine all that elaborate phrasing. It must seem dull talking to me by comparison.’

Anne gave a deprecating snort and moved over to sit down on the bed. There was an air of enervation about all her movements which worried Gilbert, it was so very much unlike her usual effortless quickness.

However, before he could settle how best to ask her whether she was still feeling physically unwell, she startled him by inquiring rather abruptly, without looking at him,

‘How was school?’

‘Terribly boring without you,’ he replied promptly, moving to sit down next to her.

Anne met his eyes with a frown. ‘I mean, how—what they were all _saying_. About—things.’

Gilbert shrugged. ‘Not much to me. Diana seemed really worried that you weren’t there.’

Anne forced a brief smile.

‘And,’ he continued in measured tones, ‘so did Moody. And that’s what I actually meant to ask you about yesterday.’

She lifted her eyebrows. ‘About what? Moody?’ she asked, and her apparent incomprehension was belied be the sudden wariness of her expression.

However, Gilbert was resolved not to flinch, and replied deliberately, ‘No, Anne, not about Moody. About whatever it was that happened on Saturday before I found you with him and Diana in that back kitchen.’

She was silent, looking down at her hands where they were resting folded in her lap.

‘Anne?’ he prompted, as gently as his deepening anxiety would allow.

She still did not respond, but instead reached out and, taking his hand, lifted it up and rested her cheek against it. There was something in the gesture which made it difficult for Gilbert to speak for a moment or two, and they sat in unbroken silence.

Finally, Anne looked up.

‘It wasn’t anything. I just stumbled outside in the darkness, and got rather frightened, but fortunately Diana and Moody were at hand to help.’

The expression of her eyes was a plea for him not to insist on the subject.

‘Anne, there were bruises on your throat. I saw them,’ he said quietly.

The corner of her lips twitched. ‘I— I’m telling you I _stumbled_ —oh, what does it matter?’ she broke off with sudden peevishness, getting up. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. It’s no use. Tell me,’ she went on quickly, whirling upon him as he stood up as well, ‘how’s Ruby? She was at school, wasn’t she?’

For a second, Gilbert meditated refusing to let her change the subject. However, the desperate defiantness of her manner warned him that if he did so it would only lead to another quarrel.

‘She seemed well enough the last glimpse I had of her,’ he replied, forcing a small smirk. This, after all, was meant to be good news. ‘She was deep in talk with Charlie, and he seemed to be making quite an impression.’

Anne stared, and in her utter surprise looked more like her usual self. ‘Are you serious? Charlie _Sloane_?’

‘The very same,’ Gilbert confirmed with mock solemnity. ‘He actually approached me to ask whether it was true I was not in the running, and I gave him my blessing. And now it seems the two Avonlea prize matches have their sights set on each other.’

Anne actually let out a small but genuine laugh at that suggestion, and it was music to his ears.

‘It seems to me incredible that Ruby could be silly enough to want to have anything to do with Charlie,’ she said with dry amusement. ‘But then I suppose he won’t talk to _her_ about the sacrifices he’s making in—‘ she caught herself up short as she met Gilbert’s eyes. ‘Oh, never mind. I wish them joy of each other with all my—‘

‘Did Charlie think he was making sacrifices in wanting to marry you?’ he interrupted before he could stop himself, his annoyance at the thought getting the better of his resolution not to ruffle Anne unnecessarily.

‘You know very well how Charlie is,’ she replied with some impatience. ‘I don’t think he was _intentionally_ offensive. There’s nothing to be said about it. I propose we don’t argue about it anymore,’ she added rather stiffly.

Gilbert clenched his jaw and looked away.

‘Really, Gil,’ she said after a brief pause, her voice softening. ‘I don’t want to quarrel. I want us to put it all behind. You said yourself even Ruby seemed to be getting over it.’

He felt one small hand slide into his own, and he looked at her with a crooked smile.

‘I don’t want to quarrel either,’ he said, shrugging. ‘It’s just really frustrating to think that you keep having to stand being insulted. Even from Mrs Lynde yesterday.’

‘I was terrified you were going to say something irrevocable,’ Anne said with a chuckle. ‘It wouldn’t have been wise, you know.’

‘I _can’t_ be wise about you,’ he countered, drawing her closer and into a kiss.

When they broke off, Anne nestled into him with a quiet sigh, and he wrapped his arms around her and thought he never wanted to let her go.

‘I wish we could be always together,’ she said, her thoughts evidently following a similar train, her cheek against his chest. ‘It’s all so much easier like this. It’s only when you’re not around that I start—‘

She broke off.

‘You start what?’ Gilbert prompted cautiously.

‘Having— _foolish_ thoughts.’

Her voice was suspiciously small, and he pulled a little away to be able to look at her. She frowned at him as he scanned her face anxiously.

‘Don’t do that,’ she said, pretending to laugh and averting her face. ‘I feel as though I was an specimen in a laboratory. Exhibit number one, a neurotic teenage girl.’

She moved away towards the window and stood for a moment looking out in silence. Gilbert kept his eyes fixed on her back, mortified by the thought that there was something serious troubling her, and that some obstacle was preventing her from talking to him with her usual openness.

‘Gil,’ she said sudden resolution, turning around and looking him in the eyes, ‘do you think if your parents were alive they would—do you think they would have liked me?’

He couldn’t help looking surprised at the question, but Anne looked serious, and he said slowly, ‘Of course they would have liked you. My dad _did_ like you, Anne,’ he added with a slight smile. ‘He couldn’t help it, you know, being a Blythe.’

‘Don’t joke,’ she countered impatiently. ‘What I mean is whether they wouldn’t mind your wanting to—to _be_ with someone like me.’

Gilbert frowned. ‘What do you mean, someone like you?’

‘An orphan.’

He looked back at her meditatively for a moment, wondering what might possibly be the real purport of these remarks. Her eyes were strangely bright, but she returned his gaze levelly.

‘I’m an orphan too, you know,’ he said eventually, his voice carefully neutral.

‘That’s _not_ the same,’ Anne shot back quickly, and then went on, looking down and getting rather flushed. ‘What I mean is, I have no idea who my parents were. Some people mind such things.’

‘Is _that_ what’s been worrying you?’ Gilbert asked, too relieved at the fact that they were finally getting somewhere to prevent the incredulous smile which tugged at his lips. ‘Anne, just because Charlie acts as though _he_ ’s descended from the king of England—‘

‘Oh, for God’s sake, stop going on about Charlie,’ Anne snapped angrily. ‘He’s got nothing to do with this.’

‘Exactly,’ Gilbert countered, coming up to her. ‘Nobody else has got anything to do with this, only you and me, Anne. And this might sound callous but honestly, I don’t care whether your parents were aristocrats or beggars.’

Anne was silent, but when he reached out to take her by the hand she let him.

 ‘There are worse things than beggary,’ she said eventually, looking up at him gravely. ‘Far, far worse. Far less acceptable.’

Gilbert was rather at a loss what she could possibly mean by that, and he simply asked with a small bewildered smile,

‘What on earth are you talking about, Anne?’

At which she frowned and with a half-impatient, half-angry movement turned away towards the window again.

 _This_ was bad, but before Gilbert could react there was a knock on the door, and without waiting for a reply Marilla entered the room.

He felt Anne slide her hand out of his as she turned around with alacrity.

Marilla looked somewhat surprised, but sent them her usual wry smile.

‘I didn’t know you were here, Gilbert,’ she said.

Gilbert felt Anne stiffen by his side.

‘He’s just leaving,’ she said crisply before he could open his mouth. ‘He’s brought me homework. I’m going back to school tomorrow.’

Marilla lifted her eyebrows. ‘Well, if you feel up to it—‘

‘I do.’

‘Then I’ll leave you to it,’ the older woman said, backing out of the room. ‘Come downstairs when you’ve finished here, Anne. I want your help.’

‘Yes, Marilla. I’m coming right away.’

With a curt nod and a smile in Gilbert’s direction, Marilla closed the door.

‘What does she mean she didn’t know you were here?’ Anne asked with quiet, barely suppressed fury, whirling upon Gilbert. ‘Are you out of your senses?’

‘Well – the front door was opened, and no one was around, so I just—‘

‘So you just assumed it was a good idea to sneak up here without anyone knowing! _Perfect_!’

This was a completely new attitude in Anne, who usually evinced no concern about niceties of propriety, and Gilbert couldn’t help a slight frown as he said,

‘Anne, I don’t think there’s anything to get upset about—‘

‘Not to _you_ , certainly!’ she hissed vehemently, turning her back upon him once again. ‘ _You_ can be all high and mighty about such things when it suits you. And when it doesn’t, you lecture me about how we should stop lying to other people.’

Gilbert felt rather desperate. He stepped closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around so that she would face him rather than the window. He was dismayed to find that there was a tear slowly rolling down her cheek.

‘Anne—‘

‘I’m sorry, Gil,’ she whispered, reaching up quickly to wrap her arms around his neck. ‘I’m such a fool. You must think I’m crazy. Say you’re not angry with me.’

Stroking her hair and holding her close, he said with as much persuasion as he could muster, ‘Anne, you have to tell me what’s really bothering you. You— _We_ can’t go on like this.’

In reply she let out a small sob, and clung to him even closer. He held her in silence, at a loss for more words.

‘Anne!’ called Marilla’s voice from downstairs, with palpable impatience. ‘Are you coming, or am I to ask Jerry to help me?’

She held herself away from him, and smiled unconvincingly with her trembling lips. His kissed her gently, and wiping her cheeks with his thumbs said,

‘We’ll talk tomorrow after school, all right?’

Anne nodded, mustered another smile, and said quietly, stepping away from him,

‘Tell Marilla I’ll be down presently.’

Gilbert hated to leave her without having, so far as he could see, made any change for the better in her perturbed state of mind or discovered the real reason of her evident unhappiness – for he could not seriously suppose that she was eating her heart out because she had talked herself into believing his dead parents wouldn’t have liked her because she was an orphan. However, now that he had tried and failed to get the truth out of her, he knew what his next step would have to be, and could only hope that it would yield better results.


	25. if I time it right, the thunder breaks when I open my mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   
> . . . . . . .   
> . . .

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Barry. Is Diana in? Could I talk to her for a moment?’

 ‘Yes, of course. Come in, Gilbert.’

‘No, no,’ he said quickly, not eager to have the whole household, Minnie May and the parlourmaid included, hovering around and trying to eavesdrop. ‘If you could just ask her to come down here for a moment, Mrs Barry.’

This wish was granted, and in a few moments more Diana appeared at the door. She greeted him with a smile, but by now Gilbert was in a frame of mind which incapacitated him from interpreting it as genuine.

‘Hullo, Gilbert,’ she said, closing the door and stepping out onto the porch. ‘What is it?’

‘Have you seen Anne since Saturday?’ he asked bluntly.

‘Well—yes, I went to see her yesterday evening.’

‘Then you know that there’s something troubling her?’

Diana sighed, looking away.

‘Di?’

‘ _Gilbert_ ,’ she countered with a frown, looking back at him reluctantly. ‘Yes, I do know that.’

‘And do you know _what_ it is?’

‘What don’t you ask her?’

‘I have,’ he replied with some impatience. ‘And she won’t tell me. Or at least, she won’t tell me the truth.’

Diana bit her lip, looking at him meditatively.

‘I don’t really know that much, you know,’ she said eventually. ‘But I know – I mean, I am pretty certain it must have something to do with whatever happened before we found her in that stable.’

Gilbert stared. ‘What stable?’

‘At the back of the town hall. That’s where we found her, me and Moody.’

She spoke calmly, as though unsurprised that he did not know this.

‘And what—what was she doing there?’ Gilbert managed through a rather tight throat.

Diana shrugged. ‘She was just standing there in total darkness. Shaking from head to foot. She couldn’t speak at first, and then she wouldn’t. She forbade me to fetch a doctor and only said she wanted to go home.’

Gilbert was momentarily prevented from replying by the anger which made him clench his teeth, anger which was the fiercer for his not knowing against whom to direct it.

‘Look here, Gilbert,’ Diana said earnestly, somewhat frightened by the expression on his face. ‘I agree it sounds as though something nasty must have happened to her, but you know what Anne is. She might as well have worked herself up to believe—I don’t know, that she saw a ghost, or something—‘

‘There were _bruises_ on her throat,’ Gilbert cut in in a dull voice.

Diana frowned, and then gave it up. ‘I know.’

He looked away, took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm himself, and then asked rather more sharply than he meant to, ‘So you _don’t_ know what really happened? You swear you don’t?’

‘I do. I mean, I don’t. I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you. When I saw her yesterday, she wouldn’t let me even approach that subject.’

‘All right,’ he nodded, giving her a smile which was more like a grimace. ‘Thanks anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Don’t do anything rash, Gilbert,’ Diana said imploringly, watching him descend the porch steps. ‘I mean, don’t try to press Anne into talking. She’ll tell you eventually, I know she will. She cares about you awfully.’

He sent her a forced smile over his shoulder, and then walked down the drive and out of the gate.

 

***

 

In spite of Anne’s declaration to Marilla that she was going to come to school the next day, Gilbert was determined not to hope she would until he actually saw her.

It was therefore even harder than it usually did at the sight of her that his heart beat as he rounded the corner and saw her waiting for him, standing quiet and still, the wind tugging wildly at the stray stands of her hair.

She watched him come up to her, her face inscrutable. It was only when he was a foot away from her that she said quietly,

‘Hi.’

He bent down to kiss her quickly on the lips. As he pulled away, he saw that there were deep shadows under her eyes, and her face still looked rather haggard.

‘You thought I was going to skip school again, didn’t you?’

She spoke with an arch smirk, and he couldn’t help smiling back despite his internal worries.

‘I didn’t want to get my hopes up,’ he said, hooking his fingers through hers and drawing her closer. ‘But I kinda did anyway, and I was prepared to be devastated if you failed to show up.’

To his surprise, Anne suddenly looked serious, and raising their joined hands up to her cheek she said, ‘I’d rather be where you are, even if that means going to that awful place again.’

Gilbert raised his eyebrows. ‘Since when does Anne Shirley, Avonlea’s prize scholar, consider school, of all places, awful?’

He tried to sound playful, but couldn’t help the anxiousness of his gaze, and this put Anne instantly back on her guard.

‘Oh, I was just talking nonsense,’ she said with a shrug, withdrawing her hand from his and starting on their way. ‘And anyway, it’s education I’m after. This does _not_ entail my being obliged to like the place I obtain it in.’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Well _then_.’

They went on in silence for a few moments, Gilbert stealing surreptitious glances at Anne and Anne resolutely looking at the path beneath her feet.

It might be the beginnings of paranoia, but Gilbert simply couldn’t shake off the thought that Anne was never, except when something weighed particularly heavily on her mind, present outside without taking in as much of her surrounding as she could.

‘Anne,’ he said, more in an attempt to get her to look up than for any other reason.

She did look up, a slight smile on her lips, her eyes meditative.

‘Mhm?’

‘What do you say we _do_ skip school – together? We might just go and have a picnic at the back of my orchard. And then we’d catch up on the next chapters in geometry and English together—‘

For a moment, Anne’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy – and then her eyes dimmed as though she remembered something unpleasant, and she cut rather impatiently into his rapid speech,

‘Don’t be silly. I can’t skip school two days in a row for no other reason than that I want to avoid—‘

She caught herself up with a frown, and looked away.

‘Avoid _whom_? Ruby?’ asked Gilbert incredulously. ‘Seriously, Anne, I swear there’s absolutely no need for you to beat yourself up over that idiotic business any longer.’

‘Thanks for reminding me I’ve made an idiot of myself. I nearly forgot for, like, three seconds.’

Gilbert felt exasperated, but managed to bit back an angry rejoinder, and simply kept silent.

It seemed as though they were never going to be able to talk to each other normally again – not as long as she refused to be quite open about whatever bothered her.

And she might well never do that, he thought with increasing dismay. She’ll _never_ tell me, and we’ll _never_ be quite at our ease together again.

If he had to put up with her sudden changes of mood till Doomsday, he _would_ – but the thought that she was unhappy and would not let him help her made him feel frustratingly helpless, and this must have shown quite plainly in his face, for after a few moments’ silence, Anne said abruptly,

‘Don’t let’s go in there angry with each other.’

‘I’m not angry with you, Anne,’ he countered dully. ‘I don’t think I could be if I wanted to.’

She smiled a little, stopping and putting her hand up to touch his cheek.

‘Well then, _I’m_ furious with myself on your behalf,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t know why—‘ she broke off, made a wry face, and then, looking up again with sudden earnestness, added, ‘Could you just kiss me before I go on, Gil?’

He complied with the request so thoroughly that she soon started giggling in an intoxicatingly muffled kind of way, and then pulled away, gasping,

‘Gil, the schoolhouse’s right around the corner—‘

‘So it is.’

He tried to pull her into another kiss, but she ducked away, and with a final wave of the hand moved on round the corner, leaving him with the comforting thought that at least she went away from him with a genuine smile on her face.

 

***

 

Surprisingly to herself, Anne’s smile did not vanish as soon as she was out of Gilbert’s sight, and all she thought about for the moment was the delicious warmth which the way he looked at her when he held her close caused to spread through her body.

However, her peaceful bliss did not last long: as she approached the schoolhouse, she heard the unmistakable voice of Josie Pye issuing from among a cluster of girls standing talking by the entrance door.

Biting her lip, she went on, and passed inside the building without looking in the group’s direction.

She thought the worst was over then, but, to her infinite dismay, in the cloakroom she bumped into Billy Andrews.

He looked her up and down with a grin than made her flesh creep with disgust.

Anne hung up her coat and tried to pass on into the classroom, but he stood in her way.

‘Look who’s decided to show up,’ he said with a sneer.

She gave him a pointedly contemptuous look, and said firmly, ‘Please, let me pass.’

Billy made a grimace. ‘What, still on your high horse? I thought I’d taken you down a peg or two. You ought to be nice to me, you know.’

‘Honestly, what _is_ your problem?’ Anne snapped, not feeling at all as confident as she’d like to.

Billy was capable of anything, she knew that; still, _she_ was _not_ capable of lowering herself to the level of trying to conciliate him by showing she was impressed by his bullying ways.

‘My _problem_ , as you call it, is that you keep acting as though you were the same quality of person as the other girls. And,’ he added with a snarl, ‘you’re _not_. We both know that, you and me.’

Not _that_ again.

Anne, whose mind had for the last three days been occupied with the odious allusions he’d made on Saturday night almost to the exclusion of everything else, felt a wave of angry heat mount to her face, but said with forced composure,

‘You are a despicable bully, and you’re talking utter rot, Billy. _Let. Me. Pass_.’

She heard the front door open behind them, and was thankful: he would not dare continue insulting her so openly in the presence of one of their schoolfellows.

She found that she was wrong.

‘Rot?’ he repeated with an ominous smirk. ‘Have you forgotten how you’ve enjoyed yourself with me in that old stable on Saturday night? You weren’t so high and mighty _then_. And I must admit I liked it too, in a way. There’s some truth in the saying that redheads are fiery, isn’t there, Blythe?’

And, with a quiet chuckle, he turned around and went on into the classroom.

Anne, who had been listening to Billy’s disgusting lies with such utter confusion and disbelief at his audacity that she had completely forgotten that there was another person present in the cloakroom, turned fairly sick at his last word.

She forced herself to turn around, and saw Gilbert looking back at her with dark, inscrutable eyes, his face white and rigid.

She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ , to get him to get her out of here and somewhere private so that she could explain – but at that same moment the front door opened, and the cloakroom was flooded with a noisy, laughing crowd.

‘Anne! You won’t believe what Jane’s just told us about Prissy’s new suitor—‘ began Tillie, looping her arm though Anne’s and beginning to drag her away towards the classroom.

The last glimpse Anne had of him, Gilbert was still standing rooted to the spot looking at her, not a muscle in his face or body moving.


	26. shades of blue spill from this Escher heart

It had been misery lying to Gilbert; it was positive torture now to be forced to sit mere feet away from him and not be able to tell him the truth, knowing all the time that, after what he had heard Billy say, he must be thinking about her such thoughts as Anne dared not even specify to herself for fear she’d break down crying right then and there, in the middle of the classroom.

She also dared not look in his direction, for fear he'd meet her gaze with an expression of contempt or disgust.

‘Anne! Anne, are you with us?’

Anne looked up towards where Miss Stacy was addressing her rather sharply from the top of the classroom.

‘This is the third time I’ve called your name, Anne,’ said the teacher, frowning a little. ‘Are you unwell?’

‘No,’ Anne replied promptly, sitting up and trying her best to look composed and focused. ‘No, Miss Stacy. I’m truly sorry. I—I just got a little distracted.’

Miss Stacy shook her head, and said good-humoredly, ‘Well, I hope at least they were pleasant daydreams.’

At that, a muffled guffaw sounded from the back of the classroom.

Anne felt her blood turn cold.

‘Billy Andrews, I see you’re bursting with energy,’ said Miss Stacy promptly, turning towards the boy. ‘You will be glad, then, to come up here and spend some of it in a beneficial way.’

Grumbling, Billy got up and moved towards the top of the room. Anne dropped her eyes resolutely down to her desk. The next second, she felt her heart literally stop beating as she heard Miss Stacy say,

‘Anne, since you are suffering from lack of animation, I invite _you_ up here as well.’

Very stiffly, feeling as though her body was not her own, Anne got up and moved forward between the rows of desks.

She wondered vaguely whether she was going to faint.

She took her stand on the opposite side of Miss Stacy, determined not to acknowledge Billy’s presence unless it was absolutely necessary, and fixed her eyes on the teacher’s face.

Miss Stacy gave them some equations to solve on the blackboard, and Anne moved to the extreme end of it, feeling certain that proximity to Billy was going to make her do something quite mad, like actually punch him in the stomach and force him to retract his foul lies.

She did her equation mechanically; it was of the type she had not long ago practised under Gilbert’s supervision, and she was soon successfully finished.

‘Very well, Anne,’ said Miss Stacy, looking at her with a smile. ‘I’m glad you’re not neglecting any means of improving your arithmetical knowledge.’

‘Yes,’ said Anne, her cheeks burning. What _was_ Gilbert thinking right now? Probably that he had been foolishly wasting his time in helping a dirty orphan who was too stupid to understand basic mathematics on her own. ‘I mean, thank you, Miss Stacy.’

‘It’s a pity Mr Andrews isn’t doing as well, for all his good humour,’ went on Miss Stacy, giving a deprecating look at where Billy was hardly even trying to cope with the equation assigned him. ‘Would you mind giving him a hand, Anne?’

Her nerves strung so taut she hardly knew how she was able to do it at all, Anne crossed over to Billy’s side of the blackboard, very careful not to so much as glimpse at him, and started doing the equation. Her one clear thought at the moment was to get it over with and get back to the comparative privacy of her seat as quickly as possible.

‘Thank you, Anne, for showing Billy how to deal with a fundamental type of arithmetic equation. I hope you’ll profit by your classmate’s knowledge, Billy.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Billy, in a tone so horridly insinuating Anne, from sheer surprise at his audacity, looked up into his sneering face. ‘I am always ready to profit by what Anne’s willing to show me.’

There were muffled chuckles from the back of the room.

Anne’s vision momentarily went blurry, but with infinite effort she forced her consciousness not to desert her and, her whole body tingling with repulsion, turned away from Billy.

Her eyes fell on Gilbert.

But he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Billy, and his face was a mask of disgust and hate.

Then his eyes met her own, and their expression almost made her cry out in pain.

‘Anne, are you all right?’

She looked towards Miss Stacy, who seemed genuinely alarmed.

‘Yes,’ she said, feeling her lips frame a smile. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter with me today.’

‘Well, go and sit down. And perhaps have something sweet to eat,’ added the teacher with an encouraging smile. ‘It’s time for lunch break anyway.’

Anne nodded, and somehow managed to make it back to her seat without stumbling over her own feet.

‘Anne, whatever’s the matter?’ asked Diana in a horrified whisper, taking Anne’s icy hand in her own comfortingly warm one. ‘Are you sure you aren’t ill?’

Anne, who felt as though she was walking through a waking nightmare, only shook her head.

‘Come on here, you girls,’ called Tillie’s voice from their usual lunch place at the back of the room. ‘I’ve some tremendous gossip to tell, and I don’t fancy repeating myself.’

Diana shot a worried look at Anne. ‘Wouldn't you prefer to go outside? Get some fresh air?’

‘No!’ Anne answered rather too promptly. ‘I mean, I’m all right. I just—I don’t know, perhaps I’m going to go down with the flu or something. I’ll feel better when I’ve had something to eat.’

Accordingly, they went to join the rest of the girls. Soon, everyone was wrapped up in the silly story Tillie was repeating of some of her girl cousin’s love misadventures, and Anne got her first chance since the encounter in the cloakroom to regain some mental equilibrium.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Gilbert’s back where he sat in his usual place. Although the look in his eyes still haunted her, it was a relief to know he was here, safe and sound, rather than outside getting into a fight with that damned odious creature Billy Andrews or listening to more of his lies.

As for what was going to happen next, when school was over for the day, she had not the courage to speculate. She remembered how Josie had said it was her word against theirs; and now that she had kept the truth from him for so long, how _could_ she expect Gilbert to believe her?

She was startled out of her bleak musings by the girls’ muffled laughter. She looked up with vague eyes, and encountered the piercing stare of Josie Pye.

She looked away quickly, but not quickly enough.

‘You don’t seem to find Tillie’s story funny, Anne.’

Anne wished for nothing so much as for all the girls sitting around her to be able to see through Josie and into her heart, and find out what a malicious monster she really was.

‘I’m afraid I didn’t quite follow it,’ she said coolly.

She instantly regretted replying at all, for an ominous glint appeared in Josie’s eyes at that, and she said, with deliberation and rather louder than was necessary,

‘Ah, yes. I forgot you are too busy having adventures of _that kind_ yourself to have much mind to spare to listen to silly gossip.’

Anne heard all the girls hold their breath. 

‘I have no idea what you mean, Josie,’ she said stiffly.

‘Indeed. Perhaps the words “Saturday” will refresh your memory.’

‘I think we should _all_ agree not to discuss that evening any more,’ put in Diana quickly and decisively. ‘It was hardly a success.’

‘Why? It was mighty successful for Anne,’ persisted Josie with a sneer. ‘Only she’s too modest to brag.’

Anne decided to face Josie’s taunts head-on and have done with it.

‘I take it you’re referring to what passed between me and Charlie—’ she began, doing her best to keep her voice measuredly calm.

Josie dismissed this with a haughty wave of the hand.

‘Oh, we all know all about _that_ ,’ she said, and something in the way she pronounced the last word made Anne’s stomach clench. ‘But that’s not all there was, is it? What about that little adventure of yours that happened a little later on – won’t you share it with us, your less experienced friends?’

Anne sat very still for a moment, looking blankly back into Josie’s sardonic eyes.

Then, without a word, she got up, went to her desk, and began to collect her things that lay scattered there.

‘Anne?’ Diana was at her elbow, speaking anxiously in a low voice. ‘Anne, what’s happening? Anne, please—‘

‘Let me go, Diana.’

‘But—‘

‘Diana, _let me go_. I’m going home. I don’t feel well.’

‘Then—then let someone walk you—‘

‘No. I just need some fresh air. _And_ some peace and quiet. Go back to them and tell them that, if you please.’

She spoke so snappishly Diana, after giving her another worried look, receded slowly to the back of the room.

Anne turned round and, for the third time that day, her eyes met Gilbert’s.

She held his gaze for a second. His face expressed nothing. It was as though there was a pane of glass separating him from her and preventing each from really seeing the other.

She slung her satchel over her shoulder and, by an effort of will keeping herself from running, left the room.

 

***

 

However miserable she might be, Anne had never before wished she was dead.

She did _not_ , as a matter of fact, wish it _now_. But as she stood at the edge of the cliff looking at the churning waves below, she _did_ wonder what it would be like to just disappear and never have to put up with the cursed affair that life was ever again.

She wished with all her heart she had told Gilbert the truth about Billy’s attack on that night straight away.

She had pretended to herself she forbore to do so for fear Gilbert would try and fight the idiot again, and get into trouble.

But what she was even more afraid of was that, once she’d repeated to him Billy’s odious insinuations about her origins, Gilbert would involuntarily have to acknowledge that it was possible they might be true. And he would keep thinking it, and pretending he didn’t mind. And it would be _hell._

And now – and _now_ it was all made a thousand times worse. _Now_ he evidently thought that she had actually been carrying on behind his back an affair with, of all people, Billy Andrews.

No wonder he was disgusted.

And it was her word against Billy’s and Josie’s. She could not even call on Diana to corroborate her innocence, for she hadn’t told her what really happened.

Such were Anne’s thoughts as she stood looking down into the dark blue weaves breaking against the rugged stony shore.

And then, she felt unexpectedly and intensely giddy.

The foaming waters swirled and churned down below, and she actually ceased to see them clearly because of the whitish film which suddenly obliterated her vision.

She felt herself sway, as though her knees were not strong enough to support her.

She tried to step back into safety and away from the terrible, sheer drop into the ocean, but she could not force her body to move. She was seized with a horrifying certainty that if she attempted it, her dazed brain would confuse her intentions and make her feet take a step forward instead of backwards.

‘Anne? _Anne_!’

She was apparently having auditory hallucinations as well.

‘Anne, _what are you doing_?’

She shut her eyes and stood stock still. She prayed that when she opened them she might be back in her own bed, and that somehow everything that had happened since morning would prove to have been the nightmare it had seemed all along.

‘ _Anne_!’

She felt strong warm fingers close tightly around her wrist and drag her back forcibly from what, in her panic, had come to seem like the edge of the world.

Then, and only then, she _did_ faint.


	27. sometimes I get mixed up in my head / but it helps that all you want is me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is, to say the least, a wierd hour at which to update, but I'm heading off for my cousin's wedding in a few hours and so can't do it in the evening! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this rollercoaster!

She only lost consciousness for two or three seconds really; then the pounding of blood in her ears died down, and Anne realised she was leaning heavily against someone, and that that someone was supporting her from sliding to the ground by keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her.

She opened her eyes.

Then she lifted her head and looked up into Gilbert’s fury-white face.

Upon seeing her move a wave of deep relief swept over his features; but the next moment he looked, if that was possible, even _more_ angry.

‘ _What the hell_ _did you think you were doing?_ ’

Anne had never before heard him – or, indeed, anybody else – use such a voice.

‘I— I just—‘ she began, and realised her teeth were chattering just like that night in the stable, only a hundred times more.

‘Just _what_?’ Gilbert demanded, his hands slipping to her elbows and grasping them so tight it hurt. ‘Just what, Anne? _Are you crazy?_ ’

His eyes had such a distraught look Anne was frightened even more, and she gave into the tears which had been welling up in her throat since the morning – or rather, since Saturday night.

She was vaguely aware that Gilbert was saying something; she felt him move and, horrified at the thought that he was trying to free himself from her, frantically grasped at the front of his coat with both her hands.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed through her choking sobs. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. Gilbert, I’m sorry.’

He said something, but she was unable to register his words and only shook her head against his chest.

This might have gone on forever as far as Anne’s ability to check her own access of misery was concerned, but suddenly she felt Gilbert forcibly tear himself away from her panicked grasp, take her face between his hands, and hold it in an iron grip.

She was so startled by both the suddenness of the movement and the directness of his gaze that she momentarily stopped crying and merely looked back at him in dumb bewilderment.

‘Breathe in,’ he said. ‘And then out. Just like me, okay?’

Anne complied, mainly because she would literally have done anything he told her to at that moment if it only meant that he wasn’t going to leave her.

To her surprise, after a few moments she felt her body cease to shake, and she realised she was once more capable of thinking more or less clearly.

This must have shown in her face, for Gilbert gave her a small, lopsided smile, and asked,

‘Better?’

She nodded.

He let go of her face, and she almost cried out to stop him, but controlled herself. It was no use.

Nothing was any use now.

‘Let’s sit down, then.’

Gilbert’s manner was carefully calm and collected, and although he still looked pale and extremely wary he no longer had that look in his eyes as though _he_ was on the verge of madness.

Anne stood passively by as he looked round and, espying an old tree trunk lying some yards away, put his hand on the small of her back and led her to it as one might a scared child.

She could not help the impression that he was careful to sit far enough away so as not to touch her in any way. Well, she didn’t wonder. He must think her filthy enough to contaminate anything she got near to.

They sat for a moment in complete silence. At last, taking a sudden resolve, Anne looked up and encountered Gilbert’s eyes. His gaze was level, but she saw that there lurked beneath the surface calm that mad rage of a few moments’ ago, and shuddered involuntarily.

‘You can go,’ she blurted out rather abruptly, afraid of what he might say if _he_ were to be the first to speak. ‘If you want to.’

He stared back blankly.

‘ _Go_?’

‘Yes. I mean, if you’d rather not be here.’

‘And what are you going to do _then_?’ he asked, a sudden sharpness entering his voice. ‘Go back to the edge of that cliff? Is that why you want to get rid of me?’

He sounded – and looked – almost as angry again as he did some minutes previously, and, instinctively, Anne drew away from him a little.

‘Get—rid?’ she stuttered out. ‘I only meant that—‘

‘You only meant to throw yourself off that cliff, did you? _Why_?’ he demanded harshly as she merely continued to look back in dumb bewilderment. ‘Why, Anne? Does everything—everything we have mean so little to you?’

‘I—I never even considered doing it on purpose!’ she countered, stung into speech by the enormity of the error he was making. ‘I just stood there, and then—I don’t know, I just turned giddy and couldn’t—couldn’t move—‘ she stopped, the memory of that awful moment when the fall had seemed inevitable making her voice tremble against her will. ‘How could you think I’d ever do something like that?’

‘What _else_ could I think?’ Gilbert answered heatedly, standing up and turning upon her fiercely. 'First you go out of the schoolhouse looking—like _that_ , and then when I finally find you, you’re standing on the edge of _a bloody cliff_ —‘ he stopped, running his hands across his face, and turning away.

Anne felt very cold all of a sudden.

‘I swear to you, Gil, I’d _never_ do something like that,’ she said quietly, getting hesitatingly to her feet. ‘I _swear_ it. You _know_ I wouldn’t.’

She touched him tentatively on the arm, and when he turned round she suffered yet another shock.

Gilbert was _crying_. His whole face was contorted with suppressed tears, and one was actually rolling down his cheek.

Without thinking twice, Anne reached up and brushed it away, and then held her palm against his face.

‘Gil—‘ she whispered, at a loss for words. ‘Gil—‘

He pulled her into him, and held her so tight she could barely breathe. She felt him bury his face in her hair and inhale in a slow, painfully shuddering way.

‘Don’t ever do that again,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Anne, don’t you understand I couldn’t—I can’t lose you, Anne. I can’t—‘ his voice broke a little, ‘I can’t even think about it.’

Her astonishment at those words was so great she pulled away and blurted out,

‘Do you mean you _still_ want to be with me?’

Gilbert stared back in undisguised bewilderment, his arms falling to his sides.

‘What—what on earth do you mean?’

 ‘I mean,’ said Anne with painful precision, her cheeks flaming up. ‘That I can’t—I thought you despised me.’

‘ _Despised_ _you_?’ he repeated, sounding horrified. ‘Anne, are you crazy?’

‘Well, what _was_ I to think after the look you gave me in the morning, when I—‘

‘The look I gave you?’ Gilbert interrupted in an incredulous, increasingly heated tone. ‘Anne, I was not giving you any _looks_ , for God’s sake. I barely know _what_ I was doing. I was trying to stop myself from throttling that bloody bastard, I suppose.’

Anne felt her stomach clench. It had come, then – the moment when they openly acknowledged the part played by Billy in this awful mess.

She stood silent, looking down at her own tightly clasped hands. She could feel Gilbert’s eyes on herself.

‘Anne,’ he said, in a strained but nonetheless gentle voice. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

She looked up and met his eyes.

‘It wasn’t like he’s making it out to have been,’ she said quietly. ‘It wasn’t anything—anything _nearly_ so odious, Gil.’

His eyes were scanning her face searchingly. ‘It-wasn’t?’

‘No,’ she went on, feeling as though her face was on fire. She put her hands up, pressing them against her forehead so that she might be screened from Gilbert’s penetrating gaze. ‘He’s lying. He’s never—he’s never even touched me, except—except for my throat,’ she was stumbling over her words now, speaking with increasing speed and incoherence. ‘But that was only—I don’t know, I suppose he was just trying to scare me. But nothing really happened. He didn’t _really_ hurt me. I swear he didn’t, Gil. He’s just talking the way he is because he knows how it’s getting on my nerves, and—and Josie is in on it too, and—‘

She stopped, for she felt Gilbert’s fingers close gently around her wrists and draw her hands away from her face.

Immediately and unreasonably, she dropped her gaze to avoid meeting his eyes.

‘Anne.’

She looked up. He was pale and his eyes were angry, but he made an attempt to smile at her.

That’s when she began crying. _Again_.

‘Anne, _don’t_ ,’ he said firmly, drawing her into another tight embrace. ‘Don’t cry. I swear to you he’ll never dare even look in your direction again.’

‘No!’ she exclaimed, freeing herself from his arms and looking rather wild. ‘Don’t you _see_ that’s why I never told you in the first place? I knew you’d want to do something stupid!’

‘Well, and what did you expect?’ he countered, frowning. ‘He can’t just go on bullying you forever, and perhaps _worse_ —‘

Anne went white. ‘I thought you believed me!’ she gasped, feeling sick to the heart. ‘I thought you believed me when I said there was never anything—anything of that kind! Oh my God, I knew it, I _knew_ it would be like this— You’ll never look at me the same way again now—you’ll always suspect—‘

‘What are you talking about?’ Gilbert asked in some exasperation. ‘Of course I do believe you, Anne. And nothing— _nothing_ could ever change my feelings for you. You know it.’

‘I know nothing of the kind!’ she countered, sitting down again and putting her face in her hands. ‘I can’t stop thinking about it— And I know you’ll feel the same, even if you won’t admit it—‘

‘Admit what? Anne, what are you talking about? You just said he hasn’t—‘ she heard his voice break a little, ‘really hurt you—‘

‘Because he _hasn’t’_ she repeated emphatically, finally looking him straight in the eyes. ‘But he—he’s said something—something—‘

She broke off helplessly.

Slowly, Gilbert crouched down in front of her, taking her hands in his and looking up at her with extreme earnestness.

‘Anne, whatever it is, I _swear_ to you it won’t matter. You must not be afraid to tell me.’

She looked back at him silently for a moment, trying to steady her breath.

‘Gilbert,’ she said finally, doing her best to speak calmly. ‘Do you think—has it ever occurred to you that we might _perhaps_ —that _possibly_ —that someday you _might_ want to get married to me?’

Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up at the unexpectedness of the question. Then he smiled an unexpected smile.

‘Once or twice an hour it does, yes,’ he said with mock solemnity.

Anne, although internally trembling with apprehension, couldn’t help a small, unwilling smile of her own at that.

‘I’m serious,’ she said, making a wry face.

‘What makes you think _I’m_ not?’ he countered with a shrug. ‘Anne, if you insist on knowing the truth, I think that if I was rich enough I could even go to the length of dissuading you from continuing your studies if that meant I’d get to,’ flushing slightly, ‘make you mine sooner. I’m no better than Charlie Sloane really, you see,’ he finished with a smirk.

Anne frowned. ‘You wouldn’t do _that_.’

‘Well, I _can’t_ do it, anyway. But,’ he added playfully, ‘you, being a demure lady, know nothing of the temptations we base fellows are exposed to. The thought of waiting years before we can be together is hardly exhilarating.’

She suddenly remembered the dreams she’d had lately, featuring Gilbert and not in the least demure in nature, and felt her whole body go uncomfortably warm.

‘Indeed,’ she said with rather exaggerated curtness. ‘I’m extremely sorry we girls don’t have to marry at sixteen the way we did in the old days. So _incommoding_ to you.’

‘You have no idea,’ he murmured, and reached up to kiss her on the lips.

Inflamed as she was by his last words, Anne give herself up to the caress, and kissed him back with the old unrestrained ardour.

‘You really are something, Anne Shirley,’ he breathed into her hair.

This phrase brought her back to reality with a thud.

All her nerves going suddenly taut again, she disentangled herself from his arms.

‘Yes,’ she said dully, confronting his startled, slightly distracted gaze with a sudden determination. ‘ _What_ am I?’

Gilbert looked back at her with raised eyebrows, as though not sure whether she was just talking nonsense or not. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked eventually, his voice confusedly amused.

‘I mean,’ replied Anne stiffly, sitting up straight, ‘don’t you ever wonder who I really am? As in, who my parents were, and what they did for a living, and stuff like that?’

‘No,’ he said promptly. ‘I don’t.’

She stared at him, and he met her eyes with a level gaze.

‘Don’t look like that,’ he said finally with a small, forced laugh, reaching out again for her hand. ‘It’s not that I don’t care in the _bad_ way. I wish with all my heart I could meet your parents, and you mine, but,’ with a shrug, ‘it just can’t happen, and it’s no use dwelling on it.’

Anne was silent, looking down at their joined hands.

‘Anne, it’s _you_ I fell I love with,’ Gilbert said softly. He drew her closer and, putting his arm around her, tried to look into her downcast eyes. ‘Only you. And you seem to keep thinking I’m going to ask you for some sort of credentials or something. That’s not terribly smart for such a _reputedly_ smart girl, you know,’ he added teasingly.

For all his assumed light-heartedness, when Anne looked up at him his eyes were serious and searched her face anxiously.

‘I knew you would talk like this,’ she said with a sigh she couldn’t help. ‘But that’s only because you haven’t really thought about what it means that nobody knows who – _what_ I really am.’

‘Well, you seem to have done my share of it,’ Gilbert replied with an attempt at a smile. ‘Anne, it really doesn’t in the least—‘

‘But it does, it _does_!’ she interrupted impatiently, freeing her hands from his hold and putting them up to her forehead. ‘Can’t you _see_ that you might one day regret that you never knew who you were connecting yourself with? Let’s suppose,’ she went on rather breathlessly, looking back at him and instantly regretting it, he looked so bewildered and also, in some vague way, _angry_ once again. Nevertheless, she went on. ‘Let’s suppose we _do_ get married, and you _do_ get to obtain a medical practice somewhere, and then someone starts some—some _odious_ rumour about me—a rumour neither of us can disprove—because it might be _true_ —‘

‘What rumour? What are you talking about?’ he asked, frowning. ‘What could anyone possibly have to say about you? You’re an orphan, for God’s sake, not a fugitive criminal!’

It has come, then – the moment when he would forever cease to see her the way he used to.

‘ _I_ am not a fugitive criminal,’ Anne said with whatever calmness she could muster, meeting his gaze squarely. ‘But what if some member of my family was?’

‘It does _not_ matter – as I already told you—‘

Again, he tried to reach out for her, but she moved away. She needed to keep a clear mind, and Gilbert’s touch was rarely conductive to _that_.

‘Aren’t you afraid heredity might assert itself?’ she asked quickly, before he could say anything more.

At that, he looked involuntarily amused. ‘What, afraid that someday you’ll take to shoplifting?’ Then, perceiving her annoyance at the attempt at jest, he added more seriously, ‘Anne, I do _not_ believe such things are hereditary. And if you try and think about it objectively, you’ll believe the same. There are black sheep born into the most honest families, and the other way around.’

Anne waved this away impatiently. ‘Yes. But when someone gets hold of a story, they don’t bother _thinking objectively_ about whether it’s true or not, they go on repeating it until everyone knows it, and believes it, too—‘’

Gilbert’s voice cut into her irrelevancies peremptorily.

‘Anne, _what_ story?’

She looked at him in silence for a moment, and then, feeling unequal to it, looked down at her hands.

‘For example,’ she said quietly, feeling as though each word was being dragged out of her, ‘that my mother was not—that she was not a respectable person. That she was—might have been—a member of a profession which—which— Oh, what’s the _use_?’ she broke off impatiently, looking up at him with flaming cheeks. ‘I can’t make it sound any better, no matter how hard I try. What I mean is that my mother might have been a prostitute.’

Gilbert’s frown faded from his face, and he looked back at her with a completely blank expression. In the few seconds’ silence which ensued, the thought flitted through Anne’s mind that it was a pity she had not toppled down that cliff after all.

‘Is _that_ what’s Billy’s been tormenting you with?’ he asked eventually, his voice suspiciously neutral.

‘You can’t deny it is a possibility,’ she snapped back promptly.

‘Anne, _anything’s_ a possibility. And it does not—‘

‘Doesn’t it?’ she cut in with a sort of desperate defiance. ‘Not if someone actually turns out to know it for a fact someday?’

‘Anne—‘

‘Well?’

‘No,’ he said, curtly but with great deliberation. ‘It does _not_ matter. Anne,’ he added more gently, sliding closer to her and taking her face in his hands, ‘it doesn’t matter to me in the least. Do you believe me?’

She did not. She simply daren’t.

‘I—‘

He bent down to kiss her, quick and fierce. ‘Anne, I love you. Nothing can ever change that. Don’t go fretting over this any more. Will you promise?’

‘I’m not in a position to argue,’ she said evasively, giving him a smile she hoped looked genuine. ‘And will _you_ promise something in return?’

He kissed her again.

‘Anything you want,’ he murmured against her lips.

‘Don’t confront Billy about this. Or about anything. Never again.’

She felt his body stiffen, and he looked annoyed as he held himself away to give her a frowning look.

‘Anne—‘

‘You said anything,’ she pointed out, and as he rolled his eyes at that she went on quickly, ‘Really, Gil, it’s just not worth it. I don’t want you to get into trouble because of a pig and an idiot like him. I don’t want you to use physical violence against anyone,’ she added quietly in afterthought. ‘Not ever. _Promise_.’

Something in her tone must have struck him, for now he looked concerned rather than annoyed.

‘Anne, you don’t think I would ever use it without a valid cause or – or against someone who was smaller and weaker than me?’

‘There never _is_ valid cause for violence,’ she replied quietly, looking away. ‘There’s always a different way. Promise.’

He was silent, and she looked up at him.

‘All right,’ he said softly, putting his hand up to stroke her cheek. ‘I promise.’

Anne turned her head to the side and kissed the inside of his palm. When she looked at him again, it was with an arch look in her eyes such as Gilbert hadn’t seen for what seemed like a long time now.

‘What is it?’ he asked, smiling back at her.

‘I just realised we _did_ skip school, after all,’ she replied, giggling.

But in her heart, she was far from easy.

 

***

 

Over the next few days, Gilbert kept his promise to keep away from Billy and, since the latter soon wearied of taunting Anne over this particular subject, all seemed to be in a fair way to unalloyed happiness.

If Anne did not keep her promise to him – and after all, she never _really_ gave one – not to dwell on dreary possibilities any more, she thought she managed to hide it well enough.

She could not help noticing, however, that Gilbert had become oddly quiet, and that there were moments when he got so wrapped up in his thoughts she had to speak twice or thrice before she got his attention.

And, of course, she put the worst and to her mind the only possible interpretation on that fact – namely, that he was after all waking up to the full, awful meaning of the odious possibility concerning her origins she had put before him, and was wondering how to break free of his fatal connection with her.

On a Sunday two weeks later he did not appear at church.

Anne had not seen him the day before either, having been particularly busy about the house, and when the following Monday he was absent from school she felt certain he must be seriously ill and, classes over for the day, promptly turned her steps towards the Blythe farm.

The door was opened by Mary.

‘Is Gilbert home?’ Anne asked rather breathlessly.

Mary looked surprised. ‘Gilbert went to Charlottetown on Friday evening,’ she said. ‘Didn’t you know?’

Anne felt sick. ‘No,’ she replied, hardly knowing what she was saying. ‘I didn’t. Why—I mean, did he go to—for some particular purpose?’

‘He didn’t tell me,’ replied Mary, and then, smiling, ‘I would have thought it much more likely _you_ would be the one to know.’

Anne somehow managed to smile back, and asked, ‘And—Did he at least say when he’d be back?’

‘Well, actually he said he hoped he’d be back before today,’ said Mary, frowning a little. ‘But he also said not to worry if he wasn’t.’

‘Oh,’ said Anne, the terrible certainty that Gilbert had meant to keep his excursion secret from her making her feel cold all over. ‘I see. Well, thank you, Mrs Lacroix. I—I’ll be going. Goodbye.’

She turned to leave, but Mary stopped her with an anxious,

‘Anne, are you all right? You look really pale. Don’t you want to come in and rest for a moment?’

‘No, thank you, Mrs Lacroix!’ Anne, who only wanted to be alone, replied hastily, giving the older woman a smile over her shoulder. ‘I really need to head home. Thank you and goodbye!’

And before another well-meant enquiry could be made, she was out of the gate and in the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's only 1, maximally 2 chapters left of this interminable story I think! so hang in there, lovelies!


	28. sugar, I've got no question of the right thing to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after a ten months' journey (say, what?), we are arrived at the end!
> 
> (please to excuse any mistakes, I've only read this through once ,_,)

Anne never quite knew just how she managed to get through the rest of the day without doing something utterly ridiculous – like hopping a freight to Charlottetown the way she did when she was thirteen years old, and then looking wherever she could until she found Gilbert.

Fortunately, Marilla was out when she eventually came back home, and by the time it was time for supper her restlessness had died down into a pale-faced, numb state which only served to elicit from the older woman the usual tirade against too much studying and not enough food.

The next morning Anne woke up feeling, most of all, scared. She was scared she wasn’t going to see Gilbert waiting for her at the crossroads; she was scared, on the other hand, of what he was going to say when he _did_ come back.

‘Eat up, child, for heavens’ sake!’ snapped Marilla, giving her a piercing look. ‘You’ll wear yourself out before long if you keep on like this!’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just—‘

‘Don’t make excuses. Eat up and get along to school. And,’ Marilla added peremptorily, ‘don’t dawdle on your way home. Come back promptly and have some rest. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, Marilla.’

Marilla looked ill-pleased with the tone in which this reply was given, but satisfied herself with pressing her lips together and looking disapproving and severe. It was painful to her to see Anne like this; and she had been _like this_ for a long time now, and headaches and stomach aches were no longer a satisfying excuse.

Anne saw that her best course would be to dispose of the porridge as swiftly as possible and thus avoid provoking Marilla to further caustic comment. She accordingly began eating with a frantic compulsiveness with was doubly as alarming as her previous apathy.

‘Christ, child!’ said Marilla, looking over her shoulder from where she was pottering round the cupboards. ‘Do you want to choke on this porridge? Really, your behaviour is getting quite beyond my powers of comprehension!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Anne managed, swallowing the last few mouthfuls. She got up from the table and, going up to the older women, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Don’t be angry with me, Marilla. I promise I’ll try to get myself in hand.’

‘I certainly hope so,’ was the stiff reply.

Anne smiled and, pulling on her coat, went out into the somewhat gloomy morning.

Marilla uttered a deep, heartfelt sigh. What could be troubling the poor child so? Truly, she sometimes wished her Anne was still the child whose misadventures, if embarrassing and shameful in consequences, were at least comprehensible enough.

 

***

 

Anne set off towards school astonished at her own lack of emotion.

She felt as though there was a black hole in her chest into which all that she’d felt so acutely during the past few weeks – anxiety, the profound happiness of knowing Gilbert loved her, the despair following the night of the party, shame, mortification, partial and disbelieving relief of her reconciliation with Gilbert, the despair into which Mary’s words had plunged her the day before – all, all were gone, and she was left as cold and hollow as a marble statue.

When she came to the crossroads and found the place empty, she felt neither pain nor regret. She merely went on in the same measured, dispassionate way.

‘Anne, what’s going on?’ asked Diana in a rushed whisper as soon as the other took her seat.

Anne shot an absent glance at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What do I _mean_? Why, you look as though you’d received a death warrant, and Gilbert’s never in his whole life been absent from school two days in a row—‘

‘Gilbert’s not in Avonlea,’ Anne interposed dully.

Diana stared. ‘What do you mean, not in Avonlea? Where is he, then? Gone on vacation right in the middle of the school year?’

‘He’s in Charlottetown. At least that’s what I’ve been told by Mary.’

‘In _Charlottetown_? Whatever for?’

‘I don’t know.’

Diana stared even harder. ‘You mean he didn’t tell you?’

‘No.’ Anne sat silent for a moment, and then added quietly, ‘He went away on Friday evening, and I only learnt yesterday afternoon when I went to his place to see what’s going on with him.’

‘And—‘ Diana paused, and then went on cautiously, ‘But I thought all was right between you two?’

‘It was. Or maybe it wasn’t.’ Anne shrugged her shoulders apathetically. ‘I don’t know. I just—I just don’t think I have the energy to deal with this anymore, Di. I’m so _tired_.’

‘Oh, _Anne_ —‘

At that moment, Miss Stacy entered the room, greeting them energetically and effectively putting an end to further confidences.

This was to Anne’s relief, really: she did not feel she could stand many more sympathetic glances and words from Diana without bursting into tears.

 

***

 

The weather continued cloudy but rainless, and it was with a kind of insatiable thirst that Anne drank in the damp, chill air on her way home.

Despite Marilla’s request that she shouldn’t “dawdle”, Anne was simply incapable of denying herself the relief which she had every reason to hope physical fatigue might bring her, and instead of turning her steps in the direction of Green Gables she set off at a brisk pace towards Hester Gray’s garden.

Once there, she sat down on the low stone seat and stared in front of herself with unseeing eyes. Then she shook herself up with a sudden, resolute motion.

‘Anne Shirley, _you silly_ _goose_ ,’ she said angrily, getting up. ‘You simply can’t let a boy make a spineless puppet of you like that. What you’ve got to do is to wait calmly until he comes back, and then take whatever he comes back to do with as much courage as you can muster.’

She felt momentarily bolstered up by this small self-chastising tirade, and accordingly set out home in the hope that Marilla had not yet noticed her prolonged absence.

Then, however, the thought crept into her mind that it was all very well to say one couldn’t set so much store by what “a boy” thought about one, but it was a totally different proposition when the boy was _Gilbert Blythe_.

‘Oh, don’t begin again, brain,’ she groaned, quickening her pace.

The sky was getting darker, and Anne felt a raindrop or two strike her face.

She walked on a little faster.

There was an ominous patter in the tops of the trees around her.

And then there was a cloudburst.

Anne ran on blinded by the viciously driving rain, feeling her coat, not a particularly thick one to begin with, soak through at a mortifying pace.

The place she was the closest to was the Blythe farm, and she turned towards it without a moment’s hesitation. Gilbert wasn’t there; and even if he had been, Anne was not fool enough to put her pride above her health, and she was already drenched to the skin.

And anyway, _he wasn’t there_.

She ducked under the porch roof with a sigh of deep relief and gave a few hasty, loud knocks at the door. Then she stood there gasping for breath.

And then the door was opened by Gilbert.

‘ _Anne_?’

‘Let me in—‘ she managed through chattering teeth.

‘Oh my God—of course, come on,’ he pulled her into the hall, closing the door with a bang. ‘You’re soaked though—take this off—‘

He helped her take off her coat, which was so wet it was sticking to her dress, and chunked it to the floor.

‘You need to take this off as well,’ he said with a frown, looking at her drenched dress and stockings.

‘Call Mary,’ Anne replied hoarsely. ‘She’ll lend me something—‘

‘Mary’s not home. Come on,’ he added before she could react, pushing her into the kitchen, where the fire was lit on the grate.

‘What do you mean, not home? Is _Bash_ home?’ Anne enquired in a piteously hopeless tone as he placed her in front of the fire, her hands wrapped around her chest in a vain attempt to warm herself up.

‘They’re both in Charlottetown. Hang on a minute.’

Before she could utter a word, he was out of the room and running upstairs, evidently two steps at a time.

Anne stared into the fire in dumb misery mixed with exasperation. Would she _never_ stop getting into trouble?

‘Here Take off your things – _all of them_ – and put this on.’

She looked down suspiciously at the bundle he was pushing into her hands. It looked like nothing so much as a mass of gray wool.

‘Gil—‘ she began.

He cut her off with an imperative, ‘Anne, you’ll catch your death in these dripping clothes. This is not a good moment for arguing. You can rail at me as much as you wish _after_ you’ve changed.’

And, giving her a somewhat wry smile, he left the room, carefully closing the door after himself.

Anne stood irresolute another two seconds, but then a shudder ran through her which decided her to throw propriety out of the window. Marilla might be furious with her when she found out about her undressing herself while alone in a house with Gilbert Blythe, but she would kill her if, through her own perverse refusal to comply with her wish and come home straight after school, she did serious injury to her health.

She took of her dress and petticoat, which were so wet they felt ten times as heavy as normal. The same was true of her corset. Was she to take _it_ off as well?

Another shudder decided the matter. The corset followed the way of the rest of her raiment.

Having divested herself of her stockings, she stood a moment before the fire, bathing in the bliss of feeling warm once again.

Then she remembered _where_ she was, and frantically threw herself at Gilbert’s gray bundle.

It turned out to be comprised of a long, plain white cotton nightgown – evidently one of Mary’s – and an enormous gray woollen cardigan.

Oh well.

She put the nightgown on. It was, fortunately, so long in almost reached her ankles, and did not in _any_ place fit Anne’s body too close for her own peace of mind. Thank God Mary was a well-built woman.

She then put on the cardigan, and felt encouraged by the feeling of drowning in a gray shapeless mass it gave her. There could be nothing improper about her looks whilst she had this monstrosity on.

She then dragged two chairs close to the hearth – making a lot of noise in the act of doing so quite on purpose – and hung her dress on one, her petticoat and stockings on the other of them. Her corset she merely propped against one of the legs, seeing no way of at once getting it dry and screening it from Gilbert’s view.

And anyway, there was nothing so _very_ improper about the thing either. It was just a cage of fabric and boning which looked as odiously uncomfortable as it felt.

‘May I come in?’

The moment had come, then.

‘Yes,’ replied Anne, drawing out another chair and settling herself in it with her arms crossed over her chest.

Gilbert came in, an inscrutable look on his face.

‘I’ll make you tea,’ he said, setting straight for the kettle, ‘That’ll warm you up.’

Anne did not reply, and merely sat watching him busy himself about the kettle and caddy and cups in silence.

‘Here,’ he said, setting a steaming cup on the table in front of her.

He then took the chair opposite, his own cup between his hands, and their eyes finally met.

Gilbert drew a rather deep breath.

‘Anne—‘

‘Did you enjoy yourself in Charlottetown?’ she put in, bluntly and abruptly.

He looked back at her a moment in silence, as though weighing up his words. Then, instead of replying, he got up from the table and went over to one of the cupboards. Out of this he took a tin box, which he then set on the table before her.

‘What is this?’ Anne asked rather faintly. ‘ _Gilbert_ —‘

He gave her a small, somewhat crooked smile. ‘Open it.’

She reached out for the box and was appalled to find how much her hands were shaking. She had, at the moment, no expectation whatsoever as to what its contents may be. She just wished Gilbert would stop acting so damn mysterious.

She could feel his eyes on herself as she took off the lid.

Inside, there was a stack of papers.

She looked up at him inquiringly. He nodded, his smile encouraging although his eyes were anxious.

She lifted up the topmost sheet.

 

_This is to certify that Anne Shirley, born on March 24, 1881 to Walter Shirley and his wife Bertha née Willis, was baptised in this church, the parish church of the town of Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia, on April 16, 1881 by Reverend Stephen Lane—_

Here she broke off, and looked up at Gilbert with two enormous eyes.

‘What is this?’ she asked again, idiotically in view of the fact that what she had just read left no doubt that it was her own baptismal certificate.

Although her voice was trembling, it no longer sounded panic-stricken, and Gilbert was smiling broadly now.

‘Have a look at the next one,’ he said simply.

Anne did, feeling as though she was dreaming.

 

_The foregoing are a certified copy of an extract from the general census taken in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia in January 1879 – to the accuracy of the contents I hereby certify – James Warren Smith, N.P. – Halifax, Oct 28, 1897 –_

_Name – Born – Marital Status – Occupation_

_Shirley, Walter Edward – Sept 12, 1854 – Unmarried – Teacher at Boys’ Institute in Halifax_

_Willis, Bertha Anne – May 5, 1856 – Unmarried – Teacher at Village Primary School in Beechville_

 

Anne sat quiet and very still, the poignant regret that these were to her no more than blank names mixed with a quite overpowering feeling of gratitude both _to_ and _for_ Gilbert.

She was silent so long that eventually, evidently not yet at ease as to her state of mind, he came up to her chair and, hovering awkwardly, said rather hurriedly, as though afraid of what she was going to say,

‘I was hoping to get in contact with someone in Bolingbroke who could give us some closer particulars on where your parents lived, and maybe then we could even obtain something more personal – I don’t know, perhaps some letters, or maybe even a portrait – but there wasn’t time— However, that does not mean we can’t try, or even go there if letters fail to produce any results—

Anne looked up, her eyes very bright, and he stopped in mid-sentence.

‘But—how did you get hold of _these_ in the first place?’ she asked, desperately trying to sound calm.

Gilbert smiled, shrugging deprecatingly. ‘It wasn’t at all that difficult. People are a lot more willing to comply with your requests when you get a lawyer to write to them in your name, you know.”

‘ _A_ _lawyer_?’

At her utter astonishment, Gilbert’s smile grew into a smirk. ‘And what _did_ you think I went to Charlottetown for, silly?’ he asked teasingly; however, his assurance faded a little when he perceived the instantaneous change in her expression.

‘You ought to have told me,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘I—I imagined all sorts of foolish things. I was quite ready to follow you and run you to earth—‘

‘Oh, you _were_ , were you?’

‘Gil, this is serious!’ she snapped impatiently. ‘I thought there were to be no more secrets between us—‘

‘And would you have allowed me to go if I _had_ told you?’ Gilbert interposed incisively. ‘Were _you_ , for that matter, so completely open with me? Do you think I didn’t notice how you wore yourself out with overthinking? I had to do _something_ to stop it!’

Anne was about to rejoin heatedly, but stopped herself just in time. How _could_ she behave like this?

In an impulse of contrition, she reached out for his hand and put her cheek against it, her eyes meeting his level gaze pleadingly.

‘Gil, I’m sorry. I truly am the worst-tempered girl in the whole of Canada. You’ve done something so—so _wonderful_ for me, and I still manage to find fault with you. I have no idea why you put up with this for a second.’

He smiled, lifting his eyebrows. ‘You like my surprise, then?’

‘ _Like_ it?’ she repeated with an small, awkward laugh, getting to her feet and allowing him to take both her hands in his as he looked at her with a growing smile. ‘I am so, _so_ happy—‘

And, pushing herself up on tiptoe, she kissed him rather intensely on the lips by way of showing him just how happy she was.

Gilbert responded in kind, and soon Anne felt so hot in her mass of gray wool she had, albeit reluctantly, to break off.

‘I love you so much, Anne,’ he breathed, resting his forehead against her. ‘You are the best thing that’s happened to me.’

Anne let out a shaky little laugh. ‘Are you sure you don’t mean the most unreasonable, irritating, unbearable—‘

He cut her off with a short but intense kiss. ‘I _am_.’

‘Well, I rather think I love you too,’ she murmured, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she rested her heated face against his shoulder.

‘ _Rather_?’ he demanded in mock offence, holding her off at an arm’s length. ‘ _Think_?’

His eyes were full of such earnest, serious affection Anne couldn’t help giggling in the divine wave of relief which overwhelmed her. _It was_ _all alright_. It was all going to be all right. Gilbert was here, and he loved her, and he said so not only with his words, but with his eyes and face and kisses and everything he did for her.

And she, for her part, was quite amazed at how much she loved him, all of him, and more with every moment she spent in his company. If questioned on the matter two or three months ago, she would not have thought it possible that her happiness could so centre in one person, that her whole being should hum with the pure satisfaction of their simply _being_ together.

She would have told him all this, only she was rather impatient for him to kiss her again; they could talk whenever, she concluded, whereas it was a very rare opportunity indeed to have as much privacy as they did at the moment. Even Marilla’s prospective wrath receded into comparative insignificance – at least, for now.

Gilbert was now looking at her with eyes narrowed in mock menace and, pulling herself once more flush against him, Anne said archly,

‘I believe I love you so much, Gil, that I’m in danger of going insane if you don’t kiss me immediately.’

She did not have to ask twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who's read, left cudos, and commented! it's been great fun thinking up and writing this story, and it's still unbelievable to me how many words & how much time went to the making of it!
> 
> hopefully, I shall now have time to get on with all those other stories which my preoccupation with this one has left un-updated for months. . . . so stay tuned, and see you soon!


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